Null
by Coeur Al'Aran
Summary: A Semblance so powerful Kingdoms will kill to acquire it. A family stolen away to try and replicate its effects. A conspiracy that threatens to tear Atlas in two. A young man who wants his sisters back, and a General caught between doing the right thing and his duty. Will Jaune manage to rescue his family, and can James Ironwood prevent him falling to darkness in the process?
1. Chapter 1

**Here's the new story. **

**Not much to say on this one. I've read and enjoyed a few stories where Jaune gets a powerful semblance and everything changes as a result of it, but those have always been interesting Semblances, but mostly combat oriented or "useful" ones. I wondered what might happen if you unlocked a Semblance too useful. Too good. So good that people can't just ignore the fact you have it and will go to any lengths to claim it for themselves. This is what came about.**

**In terms of darkness, this first chapter is probably the darkest the story will be. Sure, there will be death and such later, but no more and worse than in any of my stories like One Good Turn or Kingdom's Service.**

**Also, man, fitting a summary into the tiny character allowance of this site is tough. At least if I want a real one. **

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**Chapter 1**

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"_A Semblance is a big responsibility, son. It can be used for ill or it can be used for good, but at the end of the day it's nothing more than a tool. It's up to you to decide where the line lays, and what it'll take to make you cross it."_

The voice faded away as the tart smell of medical equipment and a sterilised room filtered in. Groggily, Jaune's eyes opened, taking in the stark and empty space; a white and grey room ten metres by ten with a single heavy metal door on one end. Above it, a wide window reflected down on him, the people behind it invisible.

His arms strained against the metal bindings. Bars crossed over his wrists and the insides of his elbows, while more crossed over his stomach and legs, pinning him vertically to a bed raised upright.

"_Subject 000 has regained consciousness."_

Jaune glared up at the speakers on either side of the window. His mind was still muddied, a result of the anaesthesia. He felt sick and tired. Once, he'd felt fear as well but that had long since been forced out of him.

"_Commence testing. Subject 000's vitals strong. All readings normal."_

The door below the window swished open. A single man in a grey uniform approached, helmet hiding his face and segmented armour running up and down his body. His trousers were a dark black and he was unarmed.

"_Agent 152. Please approach Subject 000 for testing."_

There was no seeing the expression of the man behind the mask. His lower jaw was visible but his mouth was a firm line as he strode forward. The door sealed and locked behind him with a loud, mechanical clunk. Jaune's head hung low, the anaesthesia still running through him, but he watched the man with steely eyes. When he came close, the man reached down and drew a small, black object.

"_Research note; aura-activated electrical discharge device. Administers shock on contact. No internal power sources. Aura conversion. Agent 152, begin testing of Subject 000."_

The soldier nodded and stepped forward. Jaune strained against the bindings but there was no pulling free. The object began to spark as the soldier activated his aura. Jaune shook his head, begging him no.

"_Begin testing."_

The first spark locked his muscles. Every part of his body tensed. The second brought agony, sending lightning dancing up and down his body. Despite trying not to, he screamed instantly, head thrown back and mouth open. "Arghhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Light bled into his eyes. Pink. Green. Yellow. It missed like a swirling pattern, a kaleidoscope of colour that washed over his blue irises. A subtle pulling sensation echoed deep inside before the torture cut out with a wink. Jaune sagged, eyes still shining and swimming like pools of oil. The soldier still had the taser against him but it no longer worked.

"_Subject 000 has activated Semblance. Designation: Null. Agent 152, please confirm absence of aura."_

The soldier nodded and pressed the aura-powered device to Jaune's bare neck again. It yielded no results. Immediately after, the man brought out his scroll and touched it to his skin. The device made an aggressive and startled pinging noise.

"_Agent 152 registers no aura. Complete aura depletion. Subject 000 has created a field within which aura is nullified. Agent 152, please test Semblance."_

The man shook his head and held his arms out. Nothing happened.

"_Subject 000 prevents usage of Semblances within radius of fifteen metres. Temporary designation; Null Zone. All aura-based devices cease operation within Null Zone. Agent 152, perform incision on Subject 000."_

Jaune grunted as the knife cut into flesh and drew a red line on his arm. It oozed blood.

"_Subject 000 is not immune to the effect of Subject 000's Semblance. However, the Null Zone does not cancel the application of Subject 000's Semblance. Despite registering no aura, Subject 000 can maintain the Null Zone for a recorded twenty-five minutes and sixteen seconds. Up from initial reported duration of seven minutes and forty-six seconds recorded four months prior."_

Four months? Was that how long it had been? It felt like longer. Years. Time ceased to have meaning in the tight cell and barren chambers he was brought to. He slept when they put him under. He ate when food was forced into his mouth or even provided intravenously. He soiled himself where he was secured and was cleaned and maintained by faceless people in white lab coats or armour.

"_Begin second stage of testing. Introduce Subject 003 to testing chamber."_

Jaune's head rose, eyes growing wide as the door opened.

The young girl was strapped to a wheelchair, sobbing and crying with her curly, blonde hair tossing left and right. A second soldier pushed her in, ignoring her pleas to be left alone. She wore a pale green medical gown and her arms were covered in red marks from various injections. Once she was inside, the second soldier quickly departed.

"Lavender…" His voice came out a raw croak from disuse. He didn't recognise it. The crying stopped and she looked up, eyes wide and afraid.

"J-Jaune? B-Big brother…"

It was the first member of his family he'd seen since he'd been taken here. Since they all had. Since the masked people came for them.

"_Subject 003. Age: Fifteen. Vitals below average. Long-term disease. Semblance: Limited Telekinesis. Semblance unlocked due to stress testing designed to draw out Null Semblance. Viability for inheritance of Null Semblance terminated. Subject 003 updated status: Expendable."_

No. No, no, no.

"_Agent 152. Use sidearm to dispose of Subject 003."_

Without hesitation, the man brought out a gun and pointed it at Lavender.

Aura sparked as it went off. Lavender was tossed to the side and fell, striking the ground. Her aura shimmered across her skin, a red welt growing from where the bullet hit. No blood. She'd blocked it. Pulling her knees up, she cried on the floor.

"_Subject 000 shows instinctive control over Null Semblance. Able to activate and deactivate at will with near instantaneous results. Agent 152, report aura."_ The soldier held his scroll against him. _"Agent 152's aura reported at 100%. No aura damage reported by exposure to Null Semblance. Begin testing of Subject 000's control. Alternate lethal dose of Semblance vs firearm on Subject 003. Testing to continue until Subject 003 expires."_

The soldier approached, fire licking over his hands as his Semblance activated.

"_Begin testi-"_

A loud and distant _thoom_ shock the facility. The voice from the speaker cut off. The soldier let his Semblance go and looked back toward the door, then up at the windows for instruction. A second later, a siren began to wail and red light bathed the testing chamber. A different automatic voice, feminine and computer generated, began to play.

"_**Facility under attack. This is not a drill. All units to combat positions. Facility under attack. This is not a drill. All units to combat positions**__."_

Jaune closed his eyes.

/-/

_This is far too much resistance._

The errant thought was quickly dismissed as adrenaline rushed through Blake's body. Twisting out the way of a lunge from a robotic enemy, she leapt up and over, firing twice into the back of its head. It turned her way but she was already moving, chasing down the human soldiers firing on her allies. With any luck, the robot would chase and open fire on her, hitting its allies.

Bullets ricocheted off her aura. She closed the distance and kicked up into the first man's jaw, flipped and kicked off the ceiling. The second aimed up at her but caught only a clone, Blake landing under the woman's arm and sweeping her legs out from under her. Slamming the butt of Gambol Shroud down cracked the visor and sent the woman into dreamland. The robot spluttered and fell behind, brought down by a single well-placed shot from an anti-armour rifle. White Fang rushed up, weapons at the ready.

"Secure these two and cover the area," Blake ordered. "I'll push deeper and meet up with Adam."

"Ma'am!" they said, hunkering down. They'd never normally have taken orders from her, but they were fiercely loyal to Adam and trusted his instructions. He'd told them to listen to her and they would. Checking her aura and happy to see it still hovering around 85%, she hurried further on, listening to the sound of gunfire in the distance.

The white walls gave way to offices. White frosted-glass windows with the image of a mechanical cog with a staff or torch driven down the middle of it. It looked more like a laboratory than a weapons testing facility like Adam thought. Still, there was no denying the sheer size of its garrison. You didn't have this much ordinance around unless you had something you wanted kept safe. And with the place being in the snowy mountains of an abandoned mountain range in East Atlas, it was clear they wanted it kept secret as well.

All the more reason for them to find out what was going on.

Red light flashed down the corridor ahead. Men screamed and the head of a robot smashed into the back wall. Smiling, she rounded the corner and whistled to announce her presence. Much like her own, the White Fang were taking control of the area while a masked figure strolled toward her, his red blade touching the floor at his side.

"Blake."

"You're late. I got here first."

Adam chuckled. "Good to see you in one piece too. I wasn't aware we were racing."

"This place…"

His smile fell. "I know. Something doesn't add up. I expected a token defence and an easy assault. You'd think the whole point of a hidden facility is not having to staff it with so many men."

"It's a lot bigger on the inside." Blake led him down the corridor to the lab rooms she'd passed before. Adam removed his mask, his single eye narrowing. Beakers and vials of liquid covered desks while paperwork lay strewn everywhere, the inhabitants clearly in a rush to get somewhere.

"They must have evacuated." Adam brought out his scroll. "We're expecting escapees up top. Shoot down any vehicles. Try to take prisoners but don't risk your lives for it." He put it away and looked to her. "There. Happy?"

"I'd be happier if we didn't have to kill anyone."

"I'm trying, Blake. I am. But I won't ask them to die for your morals."

Blake nodded. It didn't really satisfy her but she told herself it should. This was war, after all. The White Fang against its enemies. And the foe this time were soldiers, so they'd be shooting to kill. _It wasn't meant to be like this._

Adam pushed open a door and stepped into one of the labs. Sheathing Wilt, he sat down on a discarded chair and picked up the closest document. "Blood tests. Arc. Does the name sound familiar to you?"

"Not really."

"Me neither. These blood samples are all healthy."

"You can read medical charts now?"

He showed her the page. "I can when someone helpfully writes `Healthy` in big red letters on it."

Smartass. If they weren't testing on people then what was all this for? There hadn't been any outbreaks she'd heard of so it couldn't be disease control. Weapons development implied more engineering in her mind, though. Or at least some facilities to design and build more of their usual robotic units.

A single gunshot echoed further down the facility. Adam's head shot up.

Blake was already at the door, looking deeper down the corridor where it had come from. The White Fang hadn't pushed that far yet, meaning whatever was down there hadn't been shooting at them. A misfire? Someone jumping at shadows? Either way, Adam was up and drawing his sword once more.

"You think it's Grimm?"

"Bit early for them to be showing up. Unless they have a second exit we couldn't find." He moved on. "Guess we'll find out."

/-/

"Control. This is Agent 152. Please respond. Control? Damn it." The soldier shook his scroll and hurried to the door, banging his hand on it and shouting through. The speakers were silent, and though red light continued to bathe the room, the sirens had stopped. "Agent 98? Smithson. Engage the manual override. Let me out." He slammed his fist on the door. "Fuck. What's going on out there?"

The question echoed in Jaune's head too, but his eyes were on Lavender. His younger sister, only a few years below him, laid on her side, still trapped in her wheelchair with arms and legs tied down. She was still crying, knowing what her fate would be once whatever this was ended.

Expendable. Disposed of.

"Damn it all," the man growled, stalking back from the door and cocking his gun. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Do I continue the testing?" He looked to Lavender on the floor, crying and with her eyes scrunched shut, brow furrowed. "I guess I should finish you off."

The gun barked once.

Lavender's aura protected her.

Growling, he brought fire to his hands.

Jaune's eyes glowed, his Semblance kicking in. The fire winked out, ripped from the man's control. When he reached for his gun, Jaune cancelled his Semblance again, preventing him from killing his sister.

"Very funny." The soldier spat and looked Jaune's way, hissing under his breath, "You're lucky they need you or I'd put a bullet between your eyes."

Something rattled to the left of Jaune's shoulder. The metal binding shook, jostled despite him not being able to move a muscle. Hope shot through him and he looked past the soldier to Lavender, whose entire face was scrunched up in concentration. The metal bar creaked. Something gave way with a metallic snap.

"I'm not paid enough for this," the Soldier said, pointing his gun down at Lavender.

The binding holding his left arm in place snapped off loudly and was flung away. The sound shocked the soldier and made him look back. The very second his arm was free, Jaune slammed it onto the side of the bed as he'd seen the doctors do before. The release catch was struck and the other bindings jettisoned themselves off, dropping him to the floor.

"Subject 000 has escaped!" the man roared.

Jaune's legs cried out in agony, unused to moving or exercise after so long. The fire inside gave him energy, pushing him to lunge forward with hands outstretched and a scream on his lips.

A gunshot cracked off his aura. After so long of the monsters testing it by hurting him over and over, he'd learned to control it. He hit the man around the midriff and carried him down over Lavender's body, making the girl cry out. The soldier hit the ground first and Jaune slapped the gun away, grabbing the man's helmet and cracking it down.

Stars danced as something cracked into his head from the side. He swayed and was unable to dodge the second punch, which knocked him clean to the floor. His head was spinning. He was tired, weak and sore from so little movement. Anger gave him strength but no skill. He flailed out with his feet, hitting the man's jaw. In return, the soldier drove both feet down into Jaune's chin, sending him skidding back.

"Nice try," he grunted, wiping his chin. "But it'll be a long while before a kid with no training can best a trained soldier. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You sit there and let me tie you back in, or you resist and I'll burn or beat you unconscious. Your choice, Subject 000."

"I have…" Jaune pushed himself onto his hands and knees. "…a name."

He drew up, eyes shining three colours in a dazzling display of light. The Null Zone dropped, robbing everyone within fifteen metres of aura and Semblance. No telekinesis from Lavender. No fire manipulation from the soldier. No aura. No shields. Just three normal, unprotected and fleshy human beings.

And one gun clutched in his hand.

He saw the soldier's mouth open in shock. Through luck more than skill, he placed the bullet there. It ripped through aura that couldn't manifest, through skin and bone and muscle and more. The man's head snapped back. His entire body followed. He staggered once and his hand raised up as though to grasp something, before he crashed down to the floor, laying in a pool of blood.

_I killed a man._ Jaune's hand trembled. _I… I…_

A sob broke those thoughts.

"Lavender!" Falling, he crawled his way over to her, the adrenaline that had kept him going rushing away. All those months of being held in one position came back and his muscles returned to jelly. He dragged himself the remaining feet, put the gun down and fumbled on the release catch for her restraints. The leather gave way with a hiss and a whip as it retracted.

Arms wrapped around his head a second later. Lavender was in his arms, crying and pushing her face into his neck. Almost on the verge of tears himself, he held onto her, pulling her close. Someone was still alive. One of them. He wasn't alone.

"I'm here," he whispered. "I'm here. Dad made me promise I'd look after you all. I'm here."

"Jaune," she babbled. "I-I was so scared. T-They hurt me. Hurt everyone. M-Mom-"

"Mom's alive!? Where is she?"

"They took her. I… I don't know where. Said they were moving her – moving her and the others. Other facilities. I was only left behind b-because I didn't unlock your Semblance l-like they wanted." She began to cry again. "Because I was useless."

"You're not useless. And… And I'll find them. I'll find them all, Lav. I promise."

_Clang_

Something hit the metal door hard. It buckled inward, bending at the centre like it had been struck with a battering ram. Jaune looked up and picked up the gun again, steadying it on the doorway with a shaking hand and wide eyes. Through a small crack in the door he saw a red flash, then the whole thing was tossed aside, exploding in and up into the air. Jaune threw himself down over Lavender and cancelled his Semblance.

The wreck of metal came crashing down a good few metres behind them. Smoke billowed in through the door and he opened one eye, this time blue, ready to bring his Semblance forth and shoot whoever entered.

Until he saw a girl.

The moment's hesitation may have saved her life. It gave him the time to take in her mask – utterly unlike those of his captors – her white and black clothing and the faint splatters of blood over her black and purple stockings. Long black hair fell down her back and she had an odd weapon in hand. A combination of a gun and a cleaver.

That brought him back to life and he pointed the gun at her. "Don't come any closer!"

Her gun swivelled to face him but didn't fire. She looked at him through her mask, seeing a young man in a pale green gown huddling over a younger girl wearing the same, both bruised and pale, with the dead body of a soldier nearby. Jaune's heart hammered in his chest. Flecks of colour began to swirl in his eyes. Better to shoot first, no? Before she shot them.

The girl lowered her weapon, reached up and removed her mask. That action, random as it seemed, distracted him long enough for her to introduce herself. "I'm Blake Belladonna. You don't need to be afraid. We're going to get you out of here."

He didn't dare hope. "What?"

"You're here against your will, aren't you? We've attacked the facility. We…" The girl looked back to the doorway. "We're the White Fang." She waited for some response but he'd honestly never heard of them. Or if he had, he couldn't remember. Her eyes shifted back to the dead soldier. "We're enemies of them," she said, pointing. "We're not here to hurt you."

Jaune's gun dropped. Not by choice, but because his arm gave way. The girl took it as the former and sheathed her own weapon, hooking it behind her waist. She turned and shouted back to someone outside the door.

"Two people, Adam. Humans. I think they're test subjects."

Something burned in his gut. "I have a name!"

"Sorry. Sorry." The girl raised both hands. "I didn't ask it. What's your name?"

"Jaune." It felt good to hear it, even if only from his lips. "My name is Jaune. Jaune Arc." He looked down at his sister still huddled to his chest. "This is my sister, Lavender. We… I…" His voice gave way with a scratchy sound.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Helplessly, he nodded. Trust was something too precious to give but he couldn't help himself. Just one chance to hope, to imagine this might not be some sick trick. He watched through a haze of tears as the girl approached and removed a flask of something from her hip. She knelt and offered it to him, unscrewing the top.

The water was clear and fresh. He wanted to finish it all but forced himself to take no more than a third and hold the rest to Lavender. She guzzled greedily on it, eyes closed and hands holding his. Another person entered the room as she did. Red hair, black clothing and a hideous scar on his face. It was square and uneven, not natural at all.

"Humans?" he asked out loud. "I guess your kind doesn't care who they harm."

"They're victims, Adam. Please don't do this now."

"Hmph." The man sheathed a fearsome looking sword and crossed his arms. "Do you think I would? I hate to rush you and your friends, Blake, but we need to move. Yuma needs time to set charges and we need to be gone before we're noticed. Bring them with us. Maybe they can explain what's going on here."

Blake nodded and placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Can you walk?"

"N-No. I've been tied down for four months…"

Her yellow eyes narrowed. Even Adam huffed angrily. When she looked over to the faunus, he sighed and came forward. "I'll carry the boy," he said. "You get the girl. Don't struggle," he said, kneeling. "I don't make a habit of helping humans like this, but I guess you don't count."

"They didn't see us as human…"

Adam's eye met his. It was angry. Jaune had a feeling it was always angry, burning with supressed rage. Even so, the redhead nodded. "You have a point. Only animals and faunus that get locked up in cages like you." He stood, hefting Jaune's weight easily. "Guess that makes you an honorary faunus."

"Others. Were there others…? My family…"

"We have people scouring the facility," Blake said, Lavender on her back, legs on either side of her waist and with her arms around the faunus' neck and shoulders. "If they're here, we'll find them. So far, it's only been the two of you and several researchers."

Jaune hissed.

"Guess you're not a fan of those," Adam said. "Good. We'll be questioning them up top."

/-/

The sun burned his eyes. The icy wind burned his skin. He didn't know whether to cry in happiness, relief or agony. Blake and Adam carted them to a nearby vehicle and pushed them inside, Blake finding them several thick coats to wear. Lavender curled into his side again while Adam went outside to see to the detonation.

"Would you like something to eat?"

Jaune shook his head. He'd just be sick right now.

"We won't be long," she promised. "We're going to blow this place up and then get away. We have a camp nearby where you can both have a tent. We'll get you hot water for a bath and some warm sleeping bags."

If this was a trick, he still wanted to believe it for a while. "Thank you."

Adam returned. "No one else inside I'm afraid. Your family must have been taken away. We can question the prisoners once we're back in camp, but we can't afford to stay here." He took a seat opposite them and beside Blake, strapping himself in. "So, mind telling us just why they were so interested in you?"

"Adam!" Blake hissed.

"I'm not trying to rush you," Adam said, meeting Jaune's eyes. "But once we're back, I'm going to be interrogating those we took prisoner. Any details you can give will help."

"Adam, he doesn't need-"

"I want to be there."

Blake cut off.

Adam raised a single eyebrow. "You want in on the questioning?"

"Yes." He swallowed; the act of speaking still hurt. "Want to… hrk. Sisters. Mom."

"You want to know where your family is? Makes sense." He leaned back. "Going after them alone is going to get you killed, though. Or worse, it'll end up with you as a prisoner again. I don't really care since that doesn't affect us, but I imagine it's a bigger deal for you. How do you expect to rescue them?"

"I… I have to try. I promised him." In his final moments, with Nicholas Arc bleeding out and the soldiers closing in, he'd begged his son to protect them. Jaune's eyes closed, heart clenching at the memory. "I promised. I'll find them. I'll save them. Help me," Jaune begged. "Please, help me."

Adam sighed. "Not that I don't sympathise, but we have our own battles…"

"I can help with those."

"You? How can you help? You're a mess. You can barely even walk."

"Adam!" Blake rebuked.

"What? It's true. Look at him, Blake. He's on the verge of collapse. Me rejecting that offer is a mercy to him. He's going to get himself killed if he goes anywhere near a real fight. It's a miracle he killed that one guy anyway-"

"They want my Semblance."

"Huh?"

"They killed my dad and took my family hostage to get it."

"Look." Adam sighed again. "That's awful, I agree, but you're not the only one dealing with being hunte-"

"They think it might be hereditary," he said, forcing himself to continue. "They want to find how it works. Mass-produce it. Transfer it into weapons. Use my blood and bits of bone to make bullets or explosives. T-They say it has the potential to change everything. To change the world. They'll kill for it, and they'll kill you all to get me back again."

Blake and Adam exchanged long, silent looks.

"If you help me… If you help me find my family..." Jaune closed his eyes, feeling a weight settle on him. Lines. Dad always talked about them, about how you had to choose what lines you were willing to cross and what you weren't. To save his family, though? How could be be selfish enough to put his morals before that? "I'll use my Semblance for you. If you don't, they'll find a way to use it _against_ you."

"And what," Adam said slowly, "Is your Semblance?"

In answer, he activated it. Blue irises swam with green, pink and yellow. The Zone slammed down, draining them of aura suddenly. It was a tactile sensation and the two faunus both gasped, Adam going stiff and Blake sagging forward in her harness. Adam looked down to his scroll, eyes growing wide as he saw what the researchers had. No aura. No protection. He had, in an instant, been reduced to a normal person vulnerable to any stray bullet.

"Impossible," Blake whispered. "That – That's not possible. You can't just cancel aura…"

Adam's reaction was far more visceral. His teeth were gritted. His eye burned.

"Bullets that ignore aura. Weaponry that cuts through faunus like chaff. Bombs that incinerate populations without any hope of survival. Is that what they wanted?" He swore angrily. "Is that what you represent?"

Eyes swimming with colour, Jaune nodded.

Not all Semblances were made equal. Some could move fast, some were stronger and others could control single elements. They were as varied as they were inexplicable. While all were powerful, few were noteworthy. Those that were garnered interest and support, making powerful huntsmen who could defend their Kingdom. The truly incredible Semblances might even face incentives to have as many children as possible to try and pass it on.

But what if, theoretically, a Semblance occurred that was _too powerful_? That changed the balance of the scales too much. A power to change the world. One dangerous enough to cost humanity the battle against the Grimm and which could make any amateur with a gun the most dangerous man on Remnant. Huntsmen, huntresses and soldiers would be nothing more than athletes. Worse, athletes with melee weapons who couldn't take a single attack. A Semblance that was a force multiplier so drastic that untrained civilians could take down an army of huntsmen.

A Semblance like his. Null. If a single Kingdom could gain control of it, they could change the course of history. No one could stand up to its soldiers armed with weaponry that invalidated the defence so many people relied on. They couldn't even hope to fight it.

"Help me," Jaune said. "And I'll help you. This could be under your control, or it could be under someone else's. Your choice."

"Adam," Blake pleaded, shaking her head.

It was too late. Adam's single eye was wider than it had been before. His lips curled up, teeth showing as he bit back a laugh. Without a second's thought, he stuck his hand out, grasping Jaune's across the Bullhead.

"Welcome to the White Fang."

/-/

"_Report."_

Winter touched a finger to her earpiece, watching the team she'd brought with her fan out among the snow and wreckage, avoiding the entrance from which thick black smoke billowed into the afternoon air.

"No enemies on site, sir. We've missed them. Signs of a battle. Some kind of facility hidden in the mountain stormed by what I assume to be the White Fang."

"_You assume, Winter?"_

Winter kicked at a discarded, Grimm mask. "Hard not to, sir."

"_Our records show no facility in the area. Whatever it is, it's not ours. Any sign of whose it is or what it's about? One of Watts' old labs, perhaps?"_

The renegade who had been exiled and allegedly killed for his dangerous research. Winter knew of him and had even heard about abandoned labs found here or there. This one certainly hadn't been abandoned. Once they had the smoke cleared and could send drones down into the facility, they could find out more, but for now it was a waiting game and scouring the outside for clues. They'd reacted as soon as the smoke was reported, but by the time the aircraft arrived, the attackers were long gone.

"I don't think so, sir. This place was clearly still active."

"_Run by whom, then? I struggle to believe something like this could exist on our doorstep and go unnoticed. I'd have thought it a White Fang base. Perhaps it is and this is there retreat, destroying any evidence left behind." _

Winter was about to offer her thoughts when one of the Specialists approached with something in hand. The woman looked stern and displeased; a reaction Winter mirrored as the Specialist handed her what appeared to be a charred and discarded helmet. There was a bullet hole in the side of it and a dusting of blood that suggested the owner wouldn't be needing it anymore.

Turning it over in her hands, Winter found the back and let out a quiet curse. Not quiet enough that it wasn't caught, however.

"_Winter. What have you found?"_

"You're not going to like this, sir."

"_I don't like any of this already, Specialist." _General Ironwood sounded as upset as she felt. _"Show me. White Fang? Grimm? Some other enemy of the Kingdom?"_

Winter pressed a button to cause the small headset to project the feed live to Ironwood's terminal. Holding the helmet between both hands, she angled it so that he could clearly see the logo emblazoned proudly on the back. The iron cog and the upward staff that marked the insignia of Atlas. More specifically, an Atlesian Soldier's helmet. Standard - and current - uniform of their military forces.

More specifically, of the Atlas Specialists. Her own unit.

"It's one of ours, sir. The facility belongs to Atlas."

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**The main points of view for this story are going to split between Jaune and Ironwood, with Ironwood being a major character in this story. We're going to have dual protagonists for this. Jaune on his quest to find his family and Ironwood on his own quest to discover what is going on in his Kingdom and stop a boy from descending so far he can't be saved.**

**People always say I bash and hate Ironwood but I genuinely love his character. I love that RWBY finally gave us a character who can be both good guy and bad guy at the same time, and who has more shades of grey than the usual "I'm pure evil" or "I'm pure good" of the main cast and evil cast. General Ironwood is just a guy with a responsibility, doing his best to look after his people.**

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**Next Chapter: 10****th**** February**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	2. Chapter 2

**By the time this is up, the chapter of Arcanum meant to come out yesterday will be up. I've lost internet at my house due to heavy storms. Had to upload it today instead. That shouldn't impact much else and I've already called in for repairs, which they've promised on Wednesday, so next weekend's updates should be on schedule.**

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**Chapter 2**

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"Test subjects. Specimens. Operational procedure." General James Ironwood let the documents fall on his desk. His mechanical hand tapped its fingers on the woodwork but if it had been following hi true wishes, it would be smashing through it right now. His other hand came up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned into it. "In _my_ Kingdom," he spat. "Less than two hour's flight from base. Is this all we have?"

"The White Fang did a good job destroying much of the facility," Winter reported, stood beside the door. Though he'd told her to be at ease, she stood straight with both hands linked behind her back. "What little we were able to recover has been transcribed and printed off there, sir. Specialist Ebi also added his thoughts in a separate document."

"And yours?"

"I thought those would be better delivered without a paper trail, sir." Winter waited for him to nod his approval. "It appeared to be a human testing facility, sir. Also, a rogue one. No consent, oversight or concern for the law."

Those matched his thoughts exactly and the printed documents made for disturbing reading. The detail was limited and much was separated with square brackets and the word `DAMAGED` written within to represent where they couldn't rescue the information, but what little they had was damning enough.

Human experimentation. On prisoners, no less. Not even criminals but people dragged in from outside. Ironwood rubbed his hand down his face as nausea threatened to bubble up. Though he was no stranger to the horrors of war, it was always easier to write it away when both sides signed up for battle. One small piece of information hurt more than any other.

/

_Designation: Subject 003_

_Test Logs: _**[DAMAGED]**

_Name: Lavender Arc_

_Age: 15_

_Semblance: Telekinesis. Suitability for inheritance of _**[DAMAGED] **_untenable. Updated Status: Expendable. _

_Research Suggestion by Doctor O'Callaghan: With the subject no longer of any use for our testing, I humbly suggest using her as a means to motivate Subject 000. If termination is to be Subject 003's fate regardless, we may as well glean some use from her. Anything else would be wasteful, and I despise such an inefficient use of resources._

_Research Suggestion Approved by _**[DAMAGED]**_._

_/_

"Fifteen," he whispered. "Fifteen years old. And a girl by the name. This is sickening." Ironwood leafed through a few more pages, unsure if he should be displeased or not that there was no mention of her ultimate fate. "And this was an Atlas facility? There's no chance the helmet was planted to frame us, perhaps even by the White Fang?"

"None, sir. All helmets are serialised and I ran this one through the database. Private Morris. No black marks on his record."

"Where was he stationed?"

"That's the thing, sir. The records don't mention where he was assigned."

Sabotage, then. That was the only reason for it. Incompetence happened but he wouldn't assume it given the circumstances. Too convenient. Too well timed. "I want the database scrubbed. Use the excuse of a spot check, but I want every single Atlas soldier and their current location registered. If any are missing, get in touch with their units and demand answers."

Winter saluted. "Sir." On her way out, the door opened and a tall man stood within it. Winter saluted a second time. "Sir. General Sol."

"Former General, Specialist," the elderly man said. His face was covered with wrinkles and his hair had long since greyed. Despite that and the slight limp, he wore his old uniform and a chest festooned with medals both from his long years on the front line and then in command. "I'm retired. You needn't stand on ceremony for me."

"General Aldrin Sol." Ironwood said, standing.

"You as well, James?" Aldrin stepped out the way to allow Winter to exit, then moved inside and let the door close behind him. He moved rather swiftly for someone with a walking stick, using it to pull a seat out and sit. He chuckled as Ironwood hurried to pout him a glass of brandy. "And calling me General. A little strange for _General_ Ironwood to be referring to me that way, isn't it?"

"Old habits die hard." Ironwood offered the drink and took his own seat. "It hardly helps when you walk around dressed in full uniform."

"You can take the man out of the army but never the army out of the man." Aldrin sipped and then winked. "Also, my wife always said she loves a man in uniform. I may not be quite the man I was, but I can dress the part."

Ironwood laughed and downed his drink. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Troubling news, General? Something to do with a certain facility…?"

"News travels fast, I see."

"I retired to the Council," Aldrin said by way of explanation. "And if there's one thing I learned in your position, it's that the Military Council always finds out things the same time I did. I'd call it spies if we both didn't know how chatty the cadets can be." Placing his glass down, Aldrin leaned forward. "The Council was going to summon you to discuss this. I convinced them to let me handle it instead."

"Honestly, Sol, I appreciate that. I can't deal with them right now."

"I imagine. News like this damages the soul." Aldrin gestured to the documents. "It burns deep inside. We do dark things in the name of our Kingdom, but war crimes exist for a reason."

Ironwood agreed with a hum and a long drink. While there was no escaping the harsh reality of collateral damage, Atlas was in the enviable position of being the strongest Kingdom in military terms, which let them dictate the rules of engagement. If they wished to take hours or days longer on an attack to minimise civilian casualties, they could afford to do so.

"What does the Council want? Me to be held accountable?"

"Nothing so pathetic. They might have, but I convinced them you knew nothing. Justice would be one thing they'd enjoy."

"Them and me both."

"Indeed. Beyond that, answers, I suppose. I explained we'd have precious few of either at this time. I've read the details. It sounds like one of Watts' old research camps. He always did have a passion for researching Semblances."

Ironwood paused with his glass to his mouth. "Semblances?" he muttered.

"Yes. Did you not notice? They talk about a young girl and list information. Name, age and Semblance. Curious that they would put such emphasis on the latter, no?" It was, and Ironwood frowned. "It seems to me they were researching her Semblance. Or something connected to it. It wouldn't be the first time something like this happened."

"The Schnee crisis."

"Yes." Sol sighed. "Two years before my retirement, where Ambrose Schnee, Willow Schnee's younger brother, was kidnapped."

"I was told that was White Fang."

"That's what we let people believe," Aldrin admitted. "The White Fang were only too happy to corroborate and claim their share of glory. The truth, however, is far worse. Young Ambrose was taken by an organisation that sought to explore the Schnee Semblance. You know of it, of course."

"Winter has good control over it."

"We were able to track down and deal with those responsible, but Ambrose perished in the rescue attempt." Sol shook his head. "A stain on my record, and on Atlas – Schnee relations. I ordered the bombing of said facility myself, to eradicate all evidence."

Ironwood frowned. "And then you buried it."

"What choice did I have, James?" Aldrin sighed and spread his arms. "A rogue and criminal sect of scientists from Atlas is still an Atlas problem. So soon after the war, we couldn't afford to have Atlas painted as the kind of people who would experiment on children. It wasn't solely my decision, either. The Military Council considered the case closed, and any further damage to Atlas' reputation… undesirable. In the end, politics won out. As it often does."

Despicable, though given the facility was closed down, Ironwood supposed it made no difference to the SDC or Ambrose Schnee. That was the problem running a military. It only took one bad egg to sour the image of the whole army. A single soldier gone off the rails or a pilot caught flying while drunk.

It all reflected on the greater whole, as would news of these human testing facilities if they got out.

"Is that why you're here, Aldrin?" Ironwood asked, voice a faint growl. "To tell me to bury this? Forget it ever happened?"

"Would I do that, James? For one, I don't think you would listen." The former General pushed himself up, leaning a hand down on the table until he could get his cane under him. "I'm not here to preach. Merely, I came to fill you in and provide a little insight. One thing I shall say, however, is to not get too caught up in this. We have the Vytal Festival taking place in Vale in a few short months and you shall be needed there."

Ozpin. The attack on Amber. The Maidens and Salem. The timing couldn't have been worse, and Amity would need to be readied for Vale. Readied and then protected. It hardly helped that military hardware had been stolen en route from a facility in Mistral to Atlas. Reports were sketchy on whether it was the White Fang or some other group.

Aldrin picked his moments well; Ironwood would give him that. With so much on his plate, there was never a better time to suggest he sweep something under the rug. It would be easy, too. The White Fang had done their work for them and any attempt to portray this atrocity as of Atlas' doing could be handwaved away as more lies and slander by a terrorist group.

"Investigate this if you wish, James. The Council will approve it and I won't stop you. Simply, don't allow it to distract you from other important matters. Justice is important. Our Kingdom relies on it. But if we spend all our time chasing justice for past wrongs, we'll not see the threats on the horizon."

"Atlas is bigger than one tortured girl?"

"As much as I hate myself for saying it, yes." Aldrin closed his eyes. "Yes, it is."

Ironwood frowned. "You won't intervene if I wish to investigate, though?"

"Not at all. So long as it doesn't impede on your other duties." Making his way to the door, the retired General turned and saluted. "Good luck, James. For Atlas."

He saluted back without standing. "For Atlas."

In the silence of his office, Ironwood raised his drink once more and paused when he found it empty. Mulling the still half-empty bottle in the cabinet, he looked down once more on the printed documents which did little to hint at the horrors at least two people had been through. His shredder, the bin beneath it and the rest of the bottle, would provide a simple and efficient way to be rid of the problem. There was more than enough other work to focus on.

Ironwood stared at the pages. The clock on his desk ticked ominously.

/-/

Winter looked up as Ironwood pushed into the room, taking a position beside her and slamming the papers down on the desk. The computer she was working on rattled slightly, due in no small part to his cybernetic arm. "What have you been able to find?" he demanded.

"At least two hundred soldiers not registered properly." At the General's growl, she added, "Many of those I've been able to trace back to administrative errors. They, their commanding officers or someone on a base they're stationed at have been able to confirm their location and attendance to an acceptable degree. Human error, sir."

"Is that it, or is that just what we're supposed to think?"

"Sir?"

"If you wanted to hide a small number of people off the records, you wouldn't do it by having them be the only ones missing. You'd hide them among others." He tapped the screen. "List down the names of every administrative agent who failed to enter them. See if any correlate a few too many times. Even if it doesn't lead anywhere, that person needs a stern talking to for letting these pass by."

"Sir." Winter nodded and made a note to do so. "There is something else."

"Oh?"

"I ran some searches for the name included in the test logs. Or rather, I had Clover run it hoping his Semblance would help out."

"Clever. And…?"

"Lavender Arc isn't a rare name but through luck, and solely through that, he was able to find a news article that may fit the bill." Winter accessed her mail and clicked the link, moving her chair over so Ironwood could pull one across and sit beside her.

"What am I looking at, Specialist?"

Winter knew he meant he would read the article later but wanted a summary for now. Understanding his little mannerisms was part of her job. "A family visit to Atlas ending in disaster by a Grimm attack. Entire family killed, or so the news reports." Winter highlighted a section that listed the names. "The Arc family, sir, including one Lavender Arc."

"Killed on Atlas soil?"

"Yes, sir. They're from Vale." He hissed and she understood why. If this was bad as they thought, it had international incident written all over it. Sadly, it was looking like just that. "There's more. Clover dug deeper and managed to access some records from Vale. All legal," she assured. "Part of our intelligence-sharing agreements."

"Hmm. Go on."

"Two months prior to this journey, the son of the family – one Jaune Arc – registered an unlocking of a Semblance in Vale. It was tested, signed off and documented by none other than Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon himself."

"Ozpin…"

"Nothing seems to have been unusual there, sir. There's a note from the headmaster confirming the Semblance and detailing that it has unique potential. There's also mention of having offered a scholarship for his future years in Beacon, should he have wished to attend."

That appeared to calm General Ironwood some, it being a suggestion, if not proof, that while Headmaster Ozpin _had_ shown interest in the boy, he'd already made his move. That all but absolved him of any later guilt. "And then what, they come to Atlas and are attacked by Grimm. Except they're not. They're kidnapped and taken away by our own scientists."

"That is Clover's leading hypothesis, sir."

"What is his Semblance? Show me."

Winter clicked through some documents to reach it. Given the nature of Semblances to be of use both for good or evil, it was imperative such information be shared from Kingdom to Kingdom. That was not only in the event one such person went rogue, but also so that if an emergency happened and there was a convenient Semblance that could assist, the Kingdom would know of it. Beyond that, it also helped in identifying criminal action or even corroborating testimonies.

As such, Atlas and Vale shared all registered Semblance databanks. They could not be accessed by just anyone, but nor were they hidden behind ten layers of protections. If you had the prerequisite rank, you could look at the database. It was most commonly accessed by law enforcement, hospitals and, as one might expect, Atlas Academy.

When the log file for Jaune Arc came up, Winter heard Ironwood hiss. There, on the top left of the document, read a single line of text.

`_File accessed 3,525 times_`

"It's him," Ironwood said. "It has to be. No reason for anyone from Atlas to be looking so closely at a child otherwise. Damn it. This is bad."

"It gets worse, sir."

Winter leaned aside to let General Ironwood read the entry. Having already read it herself, she was prepared for the sudden spout of swearing from her superior. Even for the _crack_ of the desk as Ironwood's hand closed reflexively, his cybernetics tearing through metal and wood with ease.

"This…" Ironwood struggled to find the words, much like Winter had. "Good lord, I can see why they wanted it. I can't believe I'm saying it, but the potential for this to be a weapon is unprecedented."

"My thoughts exactly. It's almost useless as a huntsman, especially around other huntsmen…"

"But as a soldier or a Specialist, it would be invaluable. Some of these entries might well be people hoping to recruit him based on this, but there are too many for just that. I've no idea what research they're doing, but since it involved a sibling, they might be trying to see if the Semblance is hereditary like your own."

Winter nodded. The thought had crossed her mind as well. Weiss displayed it, but her control was still too low to utilise it properly. It was a matter of some frustration for their father, though she'd been quick to point out that control or not, the fact Weiss _had_ it should be enough to prove the Schnee Semblance's continuation.

"He has seven sisters," Ironwood read. "Seven possible carriers. Wait. This mentions a survivor. Saphron Cotta-Arc. Not present at the ill-fated family holiday cut short by Grimm." He snorted at the last, clearly not believing a word of it. "Based in Argus. Winter. I want a team out there immediately. Send the Ace-Ops. Secure and protect. With extreme prejudice if needs be. Should they fail to find her at her registered address, I want to be notified immediately. I'll comb all of Atlas if I have to."

"I'll see it done," Winter said, standing. "And you, sir?"

"I shall be meeting with Sergeant Harrison," he said, tapping the screen again. The article referenced the investigation as being run by said main, the case closed once evidence was processed. "There's no guarantee the man is complicit – our kidnappers could easily have feigned a Grimm attack to cover their tracks – but the investigation will begin there."

"We are doing this, then?" she asked. "With the Vytal Festival so close?"

"We are, Specialist." Ironwood scowled at the bright monitor. "I won't allow this to stand on my watch."

"And of Jaune Arc himself? If he lives, he's been taken by the White Fang. Given the actions taken against him by Atlas, I can't imagine he'll have our best interests at heart. He may well be turned against us."

Ironwood hesitated to answer. "That is a bridge we shall cross if it comes to it."

/-/

The White Fang camp was both less and more homely than Jaune expected it to be. It was hidden away in the middle of dangerous territory and the numerous mounted machine guns and sentries proved it. The guards eyed him dangerously, their masks looking like snarling Grimm. Adam was quick to explain who they were and that they were allies, stressing the word and telling them to pass the news on.

Once they were away from the docking area and the guards, the camp became much livelier – surprisingly so. Despite being terrorists, the camp wasn't just home to fearsome faunus ready to risk their lives, but also children and families. Elderly and young. They chatted and congregated around large fires where people cooked warm food that reached his nostrils and had him salivating.

"Blake," Adam said. "Fetch them some food. I doubt they've eaten well. Can you have someone prepare a tent for them as well?"

"Sure." The girl turned to him. "Are you okay sharing a tent?"

Lavender was clinging to him still, half asleep but obviously content so long as he was there. "I think we'd prefer it that way," he said. "I don't want to leave her right now."

Blake nodded and walked away. Adam stepped into the space she'd occupied to draw his attention. "It'll take a day at least for people to understand why you're here," he said. "I'll have the news passed on and they'll accept you soon enough. For at least a day or two, though, I'd rather you didn't wander the camp alone. I'll have guards stationed at your tent."

"We made a deal," Jaune said. "I won't run."

"It's not you I'm worried about. We have a lot of twitchy and mistreated faunus here."

"Oh." He was a human. It wasn't hard to figure out what that meant. "Will it be a problem?"

"Not once they see you're on our side. Give it time. In the meantime…" Adam produced a mask and held it out. The message was clear and Jaune took it with one hand, holding it to his face. There was a small clip on the side that fit over his ears, while the bridge of the mask lay over his nose. The eyeholes were surprisingly wide, giving him a better range of vision than he'd expected.

He cracked a smile. "How do I look?"

"The part," Adam said. "It'll do for now. Not every faunus trait is obvious, so people won't question. You can rely on myself or Blake if you need to. Blake is better at this kind of thing," he admitted grudgingly. "I'm trying…"

"Because I'm useful?"

Adam shrugged, but made no effort to hide it. "Yes."

"That's fine." It was mutual use if anything. Adam wanted his Semblance and he wanted Adam's help finding his sisters. If they were both honest about it, he didn't see the problem. "I should warn you that I don't have any proper training, though. Dad started to once I unlocked my Semblance but that's two, maybe three, months tops."

"I wouldn't send you in without drills anyway. Not when lives depend on it. Your role won't be frontline at any rate. Support and precision attacks using your Semblance." Seeing Lavender shift, he said, "Let's discuss it another time. I have a bigger question for now. How do you intend to look after all your sisters assuming you find them? I don't mind you bringing them here," Adam gestured around him, "But it's not exactly the best place to raise a family."

"I see plenty of families here…"

"Desperation. Having nowhere else to go. You don't want this if you can help it."

He didn't. Jaune bit his lip, indecision and fear writhing in his stomach. He hadn't thought of this. Not once. He'd been so focused on getting Lavender out and then finding them, but he hadn't given any thought to what would happen after. _I can't send them home or they'll be kidnapped again. And what even is home? Dad is dead and they have mom._

"I may have an idea," Adam suggested. "If you want to hear it…"

"Y-Yes?" Jaune hated how desperate he sounded.

"It's not safe here but we may be able to send them to Menagerie. That can be permanent or temporary depending on what you ultimately decide, but Blake's parents could look after them. They're not insignificant figures there."

"Menagerie is the island, right?"

"Yes. It's where faunus were to be sent before the war. After, it's where many disillusioned with humanity and its prejudice chose to exile themselves. It's been all but abandoned by the four Kingdoms, making it untouched by Atlas. The population is predominantly faunus, but there's no law against human citizens."

"Would it be safe?"

"If Atlas came for them, no. But then, I'm not sure where _would_ be safe at that point. It would be safer than here, though. That's the best I can offer." Adam nodded to him. "Of course, if you have a better idea then by all means. I'm only offering a suggestion."

"What suggestion?" Blake asked, returning. Adam filled her in quickly. "Menagerie would be as good a place as any," she said. "It would be safer than staying here at any rate. I've found you both a tent. Ilia is finding some food for you." The feline faunus smiled softly. "She's about the most human friendly faunus you'll find here so long as you're good to her."

"We'll talk more tomorrow." Adam stepped away. "Rest well."

"You too?" Jaune said, watching him go.

Blake shook her head and coughed, drawing his eyes and smiling awkwardly. "Sorry about him. Adam's a good guy, but he's not very good at talking to people. Would you like me to show you to your tent?"

"Please. Blake, isn't it?"

"Yes. Blake Belladonna. Nice to meet you." She hadn't put her mask on since first taking it off in the test chamber, but now away from the stench of death and all the adrenaline, he took the time to look at her properly. Apart from being around his age and quite beautiful, she looked tired. Tired and worn.

Lavender was so out of it that he swept her up into his arms, his own legs aching as he followed Blake through the camp. People looked their way but seeing him in a mask and not being able to see Lavender's face, they simply nodded or turned away, back to their own business. A few children ran by laughing, chasing one another with one holding a Beowolf teddy over his head and growling.

"This more like a community than a camp."

"That's what the White Fang is," Blake explained. "We didn't just come to Atlas to rescue you. We struck a Schnee mining camp first. These are the people who wanted to come with us. We'll be transporting them to the coast where they'll take a ship to Menagerie to start new lives there."

"Is that how long I have to decide for Lavender?"

"You can take all the time you want, but the sooner the better. Here." Blake swept open the flap to a tent and let him inside. The interior was bare. Nothing more than two sleeping bags and a wooden crate. There were two steaming plates at it with meat and vegetables coated in gravy. Jaune's stomach grumbled at the sight alone. "Looks like Ilia came through. It's not much but we're pushed for resources with all these rescued faunus here."

"It's more than I ever expected. Thank you."

As hungry as she probably was, Lavender was already falling asleep. He knelt and reached for a bag, thanking Blake quietly when she took the lead and drew it open, helping to put his sister to bed into it and then zipping up the sides. The grassy floor was soft but she found some pillows to push under her head.

It really was more than Jaune expected. After living in a testing facility spending every day wishing to see the sunlight, this was the height of luxury. He wiped away a tear, hoping she didn't see it. His own legs gave way soon after and he sat cross-legged before the box, digging into the food with Blake watching. It was wonderful. Warm, rich and meaty, nothing like the paste he was fed – or forced to eat – by the scientists.

"Things will get better when we shift the civilians away." Blake took the spot opposite but didn't touch the food. "At least, our conditions will. I can't say better when we'll go back to fighting." Looking up suddenly, she asked, "Are you really okay with this?"

"With – mph – what?"

"Fighting. Joining us. You'll be expected to fight your fellow humans."

"My fellow _humans_ kidnapped my family and ran tests on us. They tried to kill my sister in front of me."

"I know, but… still… Is this what you want? To fight and kill?"

"I want to find my sisters. If those people have them, then I don't think I have a choice."

"And you're okay with that? Killing them?"

"Yes."

He didn't know. Gods, but it was easy to say yes right now. Easy to kill that man before as well, but he'd been trying to kill Lavender at the time. Now, with the clarity of hindsight, he felt sick and tense, like his body was coiled up and unable to relax. Doing it again was a terrifying prospect, but it was no less horrible than the thought of his mom and sisters locked in cages put through test after test and then _disposed of_ for failing to unlock his Semblance.

"I'm fine with it," he lied. "I'll do whatever I have to."

/-/

General Ironwood stalked down the corridor, his white coat flapping behind him. Soldiers saluted and moved out the way, each sensing his poor mood and making no move to interrupt. He nodded back to each, lips drawn into a thin line. It was too soon to say anything but the little they'd found so far was enough to have him on edge.

There was something dark going on in Atlas. Right under his nose.

_Not soon, there won't be. I'll not let this madness stand._

An office appeared ahead. The door was wooden, the plaque on it reading Captain Harrison. A rather sudden promotion to achieve in just four months. Very sudden in peacetime. Scowling, Ironwood rapped his fist on the door and waited.

Seconds ticked by. Footsteps echoed behind as people came and went.

Impatience bubbling, he rapped his fist again on the wood, louder this time. When that yielded no result, he tested the handle. It drew down and the door clicked open. That a Captain might leave their room unlocked and unattended did not cross his mind. Ironwood reached down and pushed his coat aside, drawing his sidearm and pushing into the room.

No attack greeted him. No intruders, ambush or anything of the sort. Only the wooden desk, the man sat behind it, and the remains of his brain matter splattered across the closest wall.

Captain Harrison's empty eyes stared at Ironwood.

* * *

**It's ya boy, Jimmy! **

**Only a small section from Jaune here. Got to introduce the two main characters of this story and it's a nice change to write Ironwood. After Forged Destiny, I decided never again to reveal pairings ahead of time for my fanfiction lest I face more rage, so I'm afraid I cannot address those questions in reviews asking if those is going to end up with some steamy Jaune on James action.**

**You'll just have to read and find out! Lol.**

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**Next Chapter: 17****th**** February**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	3. Chapter 3

**Important Note on Troll in Reviews:**

**There is a worthless little troll in the reviews spamming guest reviews by the hundreds and writing other reviewer's names into the "name" slot to try and frame them for it. Their goal is to try and incite flames and such against the person they are framing. Please do the correct thing and ignore all guest reviews that go around flaming or telling you read "Name"'s story instead. That's their main troll angle, trying to make it look like they're helping out a "friend" when in reality it's just someone else they're trolling.**

**I'd normally like to not even acknowledge the worm, but several readers ARE being fooled so I have to step in. Honestly, no matter how angry, insulting or petty a review seems to you, just ignore it. Focus on the story.**

**For those wondering, no I can't disable guest reviews. I can only set them to moderate and then it auto-accepts them after a certain time elapses, and I can't spend all my time working through the troll's spam denying them one by one or I'd never get any work done.**

**Edit: Similarly, I have never and will never flame people in reviews. If you see such a review from me, it is fake.**

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**Chapter 3**

* * *

Jaune spat out mud and pushed himself up. Mud lay caked and encrusted over his arms and hands, up the side of his face and further, down his body and to his legs. Those wobbled as he stood, favouring one over the other and clutching a wooden training knife in one hand. Across from him, Adam drew a wooden sword back and chambered it against his shoulder.

"Again," he barked.

Ignoring the pain, Jaune charged in, feet slapping through the mud as he covered the distance and pushed his aura to the fore. He swung down, only to curse internally as Adam ignored the attack and lunged through it, intent on using the longer range of his weapon to overpower it. Twisting, he was able to roll past it, up the length of Adam's blade. His free hand snapped down onto Adam's wrist, locking the weapon in place.

His eyes lit up, glowing three colours in a bright medley. The knife came down toward Adam's now unprotected neck, aura having failed them both. Victory.

Adam caught his knife hand and stopped it an inch away, grinned and kicked Jaune's legs out from under him. He hit the mud with a wet splat.

A wooden blade gently tapped his forehead.

"Better." Despite the situation, Adam's tone held some mirth. He stepped back, allowing Jaune to push himself up. "You kept your aura up until the last second just like I said and only used your Semblance when you saw an opportunity. We just need to work on you being able to take advantage of them."

Jaune panted for breath. "I'm hopeless."

"You're far from that. You're improving."

"Not fast enough."

"How long do you think it takes to learn to fight?" Adam rolled his eyes and tossed his wooden sword aside. Most training in the White Fang took place with cold steel, but with Jaune's Semblance removing aura, that wasn't safe for them. "A knife is a simple weapon but teaching you to use a sword would take years. The better half of a decade. We – and you – don't have that time." He crossed his arms. "Besides, you'll be best off using firearms. Blake is helping you with that."

"Then why do this at all?"

"Because you never know when you might have to deal with a huntsman up close. I'd rather you be prepared for every possibility."

Preparation. Adam spoke of it often. To hear the man go on, he'd be prepared for his own funeral. You had to be prepared for an ambush gunline. A huntsman. An army of Grimm. It was probably what had kept this group of faunus safe for so long but covered in mud and bruises he wasn't feeling all that charitable.

"You asked for this," Adam reminded him.

"I know. I know." He needed the strength to save his family. "I just don't know what use I'll be in melee combat."

"Not much of one directly but that's fine. We already have Blake and I for strong melee combatants. What we need is support – support you can provide. I'm going to have Blake shadow you for our first few missions."

Jaune looked up, surprised. "Is that a good idea? My Semblance would weaken her. I should be with people who just use guns. Preferably those without aura."

"Don't think so binary. Take five men with guns and what happens when you go up against ten soldiers? Twenty? Thirty? There are times when your Semblance will be the most useful thing ever, but other times where it'll be a liability. Your strength is in letting any idiot with a gun fight evenly with someone with twenty years' training. It's useless facing _more_ people with _more_ guns. At least, it is if that's what you're relying on. You're anti-quality, not anti-quantity. Do you know who is the latter?"

"You and Blake."

"That's right. You'll need someone with you for those times where you're outnumbered by chaff. Dropping everyone's aura there will get you and your team mowed down in a hail of bullets. Blake can wade through the storm and dispatch them all. Or, if it's someone too strong for her, you drop their aura and the team shoots them."

That was why Adam was the teacher and he the student. For all that he'd killed a single Atlas Soldier and broken out the facility, he was still just a regular sixteen-year-old. Adam was used to this. Used to planning and thinking ahead.

The lessons and the training focused around that. Adam made no secret that he'd be expected to kill. Either out of respect for his intelligence or because he didn't think it necessary. Jaune liked to think it was the former. Aside from teaching him to fight and having Blake train him in firearms, Adam took the time to impart wisdom on how to _use_ his Semblance. Namely, on some of the mistakes he'd made before.

Don't switch it on and off constantly. Small bursts. Ideally, he'd only use his Semblance for the fraction of a second it took for a bullet to strike a target and then his aura would be up again to protect from a counterattack. The perfect offence and defence. That was the theory. In practice, that kind of fine control was far outside his capabilities. Adam always assured him it would be unless he trained, hence their current practice.

He still couldn't activate or de-activate it that quickly, but he'd managed to get it down to a few seconds. Quick enough to use in the midst of combat. Or sparring. Adam made it abundantly clear that everything they learned here would pale in comparison to real action. Another reason Blake would be keeping an eye on him, no doubt.

"Training is over for now," Adam said. "Go spend some time with your sister."

"Have you found anything?"

"Not yet. It's going to take time, Jaune. Our first responsibility is getting these people to the boats. We'll focus on dealing with Atlas and finding your family after."

Chastised, Jaune nodded. He hadn't meant to suggest everyone else was less important. Adam seemed to recognise that and didn't tell him off further, simply nodding once and walking away, barking out orders for something or another. He was always busy. Always working. Jaune turned and walked back into the section of camp which formed the interior.

The White Fang organised their camps in circles – and it was _camps_ since they kept moving, ever onward toward the shore. The civilians rescued from the Schnee mines sat at the centre while the more combat focused White Fang camped in a circle around them. To protect from Grimm, Blake had explained. Or from SDC Huntsmen come to `reclaim` their stock.

In Vale, in Ansel, they'd known little about faunus and the White Fang. Only that they existed. Walking through the interior camp now, he saw people going to and fro. Perfectly human but for the tails, ears or other features that marked them different. His eyes followed a girl Lavender's age as she walked by with a pot of water. There, on the small of her exposed back, a perfectly square symbol had been _burned_ into her skin.

_Property of the SDC_

Jaune tore his eyes away, scowling fiercely. They weren't his people but Lavender and he had been living among the White Fang for two weeks now and it'd begun to feel like it. She'd made some friends among the faunus here, once they all realised he and his sister weren't dangerous. They were still a little wary around him but Lavender being confined to a wheelchair looked so much less threatening.

Luckily, she wouldn't be for long. Adam's medics had discovered she wasn't disabled, merely weak from lack of exercise. After some physiotherapy and rest, she'd be back on her feet again. The relief at the time had been crushing.

Pulling the tent flap back, he was surprised to see Lavender wasn't alone. Ilia flinched, looking up from the floor and to him with wide, nervous eyes. He didn't know why, given that nothing looked out of place. There were cards arrayed on the floor between Ilia and Lavender, who was out her wheelchair and sat on a cushion.

"Jaune!" she greeted happily, smile splitting her face in two. "How was training?"

"Good." He grinned back, hoping the bruises didn't stand out. "I lost, but that's probably to be expected. Is Ilia teaching you a new game?"

"Poker! It's fun."

"You'll have to teach me." He pulled off the White Fang uniform top Adam had lent him, exchanging it for a towel that he dipped in a small pail of water. It was collected from a stream and brought to a central pot that anyone could come and take from, both for drinking and bathing. He used the wet towel to wipe his arms and chest down. "Thank you for keeping her company, Ilia."

Ilia flushed and looked away. "No problem."

Was she embarrassed by him showing his chest? When he'd asked that question to Adam, the man had burst out laughing and hadn't stopped for several minutes, before amusedly telling him he didn't need to worry about _himself_ around her. It was one of the few times he'd ever seen Adam genuinely smile. No. That wasn't true. He often smiled at and with Blake, especially later in the evenings when the two would sit together by the fire.

Jaune wasn't blind to what was going on there.

"Adam is strong," Ilia whispered. "He doesn't expect you to beat him. Only to be able to endure him."

"That's the feeling I got."

"Why?" Lavender asked nervously.

Jaune and Ilia exchanged quick glances. Both were in agreement. "Self-defence."

"So your brother can protect himself and you," Ilia echoed. "It's best he knows how."

"I'm not doing anything dangerous," he told her, sitting down next to her and hiding his guilt by pulling her in for a one-armed hug. "But I don't want us going back to that place. Adam is helping teach me how to survive."

"Hmmm. I'm glad."

Jaune touched the cards. "Teach me how to play."

They played a few rounds, Lavender boldly showing him the rules with Ilia only having to clarify a few results, mostly in terms of what hands were stronger. Once he had the basics down, he quickly burned through and lost his `chips`, in this case some pebbles, to Lavender. He rewarded her with a kiss on the cheek and accepted Ilia's help carrying a tired younger sister into bed.

"I shouldn't be sleepy," she complained.

"You're still recovering," Ilia said. "Give it a little longer and you'll be staying up late again."

Tucking her in, they waited for her to fall asleep before Ilia jerked her head toward the tent flap. Jaune followed her outside, letting the material fall shut behind. The camp was still active and remained so all night, but the overall noise had quietened as the later hours came in.

"Thanks for looking after her."

"It's no chore. I like her."

_Even if we're human?_ He didn't say it. Doing so would be like accusing Ilia of being racist, and she clearly didn't care given how gentle she was with Lav. To be honest, not as many people here as he would have thought did. Oh, there were some, but even most of the fighting White Fang saw him and Lavender as abused humans in need of a home. The mask he wore around his neck and over his chest helped.

"Do you think it's right for me to lie to her?"

"Yes." Her answer was immediate. "She would only worry."

"It feels wrong…"

"Wrong is not coming back to her alive. Trust Blake. Trust…" Ilia sighed. "You can trust Adam. You're useful, so he'll move all of Remnant to keep you in one piece."

"What about you?"

"You can rely on me, but I won't be joining the next attack. Adam wants me back in Menagerie with the refugees. Someone has to go with them." Ilia looked upset at the fact it would be her but resigned all the same. "You never know with Grimm in the water. It was either me, Blake or Adam and they're too important to leave."

"Ah. I guess we'll be saying goodbye."

"Yeah…"

They stood awkwardly outside his tent.

"I'll look after Lavender," Ilia rushed out. "You have my word."

"I'll look after myself, then. For her sake."

"Yes. You do that." Ilia smiled briefly. "Once we have the civilians on the ships and away, it's going to be back to action. You'll need to be ready for it. Adam… He's teaching you to fight, but you realise what's going to really happen. Don't you?"

"I'm going to kill people…"

"Yes. Or be responsible for it. Same thing."

He nodded. If he used his Semblance to drop people's aura and they were killed by the White Fang, he wouldn't try and claim that wasn't his fault. It was a line he didn't want to cross, but one he'd have to in order to have Adam help him. _Dad always said only we can decide where the lines lay. I guess mine are worse than his._

"Don't be afraid to tell someone if you're not," Ilia said. "I won't be there for it, but you…" She looked around, almost as though she were making sure no one heard her. "If you need to talk to someone, talk to Blake. Not Adam. Adam won't understand."

"And Blake will? Aren't they together?"

Ilia grimaced. "They are, but Blake doesn't like the violence. She's not afraid to use it, but she doesn't like it. She's confided that in me a few times. Don't tell Adam," she requested of him. "He'd only be angry."

"I won't say a word."

For now they would stay a happy family. Though he knew it wouldn't last...

/-/

That moment came sooner than he could have ever wished.

"You're not coming?"

Lavender's face ripped his heart in two. The tears in her eyes, the way her lips parted, forming a small `O` as she realised he wasn't stepping on the boat with so many other faunus. It tore into him. Ilia was beside her, one hand on Lavender's shoulder.

"I have to find the others," he said. "They're still trapped."

"I… I…" Lavender hiccupped suddenly, tears trickling down her cheeks. He knew she wanted to tell him to come anyway, but to do so was to also tell him to leave the rest of their siblings to their deaths.

Jaune leapt up and onto the boat, quickly wrapping his arms around her. Lavender collapsed into his chest, sobbing. He ran a hand over her hair, pressing his lips down into her scalp as his own tears flowed freely.

"It won't be forever," he promised her. "I'll come back. I just need to find the others and get them out, then we'll be a family again. You can help with that. I'm going to need somewhere safe to send them. They'll need looking after and comforting. If you can do that for me, you'll be helping me save them all."

Lavender's face rubbed up and down his chest as she nodded. The grey White Fang uniform turned damp against his skin. Lavender wore one as well, though hers somehow looked less intimidating. Her fingers clung to him and he was thankful that Adam and the others remained silent, allowing him his moment.

"Is that okay, Lav?"

"Y-Yes…" Sniffling, she pulled back, face red and streaked with tears. "B-But I want you to call. T-Talk to me. Please don't forget me."

"I won't. I promise. I'm going to find them and then I'll come to Menagerie." He pressed his forehead against hers. "We'll all live there. You, me, mom and all the others. Make sure you find a big home for us, okay? And get it ready, because I'm going to be sending our sisters along the second I find them."

It wasn't as easy as that. Lavender cried and he did as well. They clung to one another, the two weeks together hardly enough to make up for months apart. The fact he was sending her off on her own was a dagger to his chest, but he _couldn't_ go with her. Not when it meant leaving everyone else to suffer.

When she eventually let go of him, Ilia was there, taking Lavender in her arms from behind but letting her keep watching him as he hopped back, splashing down into the shallow water. His eyes burned as he stepped back, keeping them locked onto Lavender's as the boat's motors whirred to life, slowly taking the vessel out to sea.

A hand touched his shoulder from behind. "She will be safe," Blake promised. "I spoke to my parents. They're going to look after her – and I'll give you their number. If you find a CCT or a signal booster, you can call them and speak to her whenever you want."

"Thank you." He wiped an arm over his eyes. "She'll be safe."

"Safer than us," Adam said. "Safer than you. It's not too late," he said gruffly. "I can call them back and you can follow. I don't care for someone who won't fight; who will be a liability. You can go with her, set up home in Menagerie and forget all about this."

Jaune watched Lavender go, watched her wave her hand desperately. He brought his own up, smiling through his tears as he waved goodbye. For now. They'd meet again. They had to. Letting his hand fall, he turned his back on her, facing Adam and the remnants of the White Fang, those looking to fight. Ready to kill.

Waiting for him.

The cold, porcelain mask settled over his features, hiding the tears and turning his face into a snarling visage. It was the only answer he could give and the only one Adam would accept. The faunus nodded. Blake donned her own and they all stood masked and hidden, weapons at the ready.

"We've done good work here today," Adam said loudly. "Because of us, innocent people will live peaceful lives in Menagerie. The war is not yet over, however." He drew Wilt, pointing it upward. "It's time we remind Atlas of that fact!"

"Hah!" the White Fang cried.

Jaune's voice rose with them.

/-/

"Mrs and Mrs Cotta-Arc."

The two women looked up at him as he entered the room, eyes narrowing dangerously. Ironwood nodded back politely, stepping in and taking a seat opposite them at the small interview table. A baby was sat in the blonde's lap, faced pressed into her bosom. The other woman, darker of skin and hair, watched him fiercely.

Neither looked afraid for their safety, only that of their child.

Telling. More than they may have thought.

"Why are we here?" the girl known as Terra demanded. "We've been whisked away from our home with no explanation by what _look_ like special forces. I want a lawyer."

"You won't need one, Mrs Cotta-Arc."

"I. Want. A. Lawyer."

"You are not in any legal trouble," Ironwood said, trying again. He would have smiled but couldn't find it in himself to do so. A long-distance discussion with Ozpin had yielded no results. Ozpin knew, of course, but he had thought the Arc family fallen. He both looked and sounded as surprised as Ironwood himself. Though his old friend had promised aid, they both knew it meant little.

This was Atlas' problem and there wasn't much Beacon could do about it.

"You have been brought here for your own protection," he continued. "As we have reason to believe your lives may be in danger."

"In danger of what?" Saphron asked nervously, clutching her son to her chest.

"Tell me first," Ironwood said. "And please answer truthfully. Do you have huntsman training?"

"N-No. My father did but I never learned."

"And you?" he asked Terra. The girl shook her head. "Have either of you an unlocked aura?" This prompted a different reaction. Terra shook her head but Saphron bit her lip. Something he noticed. "You are not in any trouble with us," he assured them. Her. "There's no laws against aura and it's certainly not something to be ashamed of."

"I have my aura," Saphron whispered. "Dad unlocked it a long time ago. We were out fishing and Grimm appeared. He refused to take the risk and unlocked mine before he fought them off."

"Do you have a Semblance, Mrs Cotta-Arc?"

"I don't see why this is important."

"Please," he insisted. "This is important. Do you have a Semblance?"

Saphron looked down. "Yes. It's useless, though. I can harden my skin. I used it to protect me against the Grimm."

And there they had it. The reason she had been allowed to remain. Ironwood had suspected it but found little pleasure in being right. Sighing, he leant forward, running a hand down his face and cutting the women off before they could speak. They'd likely seen him on the television before, always calm and in control. He wasn't always that way. One of the main times he wasn't was when a young officer died and he had to deliver news to bereaved parents. Technically, this was the opposite, and yet it felt just as bad.

"I have some distressing news for you, Mrs Cotta-Arc."

/-/

Ironwood stood outside the door, all too able to hear the loud wailing and crying within but doing his best to pretend otherwise. The two soldiers had stepped out as well, now guarding the room from the outside to grant the unfortunate woman and her wife some time alone. Through the visor of one, he could see the soldier had his eyes closed, trying to block it out. He would have normally rebuked a guard not being at attention, but let it go this one time.

This. This was never easy.

"Their home was untouched," Winter reported to him, tone-faced despite the noise. "After bringing them here I had the Ace-Ops run over the place with a fine comb. No listening or surveillance devise beyond simple home security on their part. It appears they were let go entirely."

"Surplus to requirements. The girl already had her Semblance unlocked."

"The son would have been a target…"

"Yes. They either did not realise or were not interested in him for now. Perhaps they wanted to wait until he was older, or to see if their current _Subjects_ would yield results. I won't take the risk either way. I want them both set up and made a part of my staff. Mrs Terra Cotta-Arc has experience in engineering. Fine her a role on our comms team. The other… station her on maternity leave, but close. Keep them together."

"Sir." Winter saluted.

It might be too much paranoia on his part but such was a risk he wouldn't take for now. One witness had already been silenced; Ironwood refused to believe the quick declaration of suicide from the Military Police. He'd _seen_ men take their own lives and the facts didn't add up. Of course, he couldn't intervene in an investigation. The very purpose of the MP was to be above and beyond his interference.

_Someone is covering this up. We only know of Subject 000 and Subject 003, which means the rest are still unaccounted for._ The group behind it were therefore still active. _They'll be running damage control. Let's see them try and kill these two on my watch._

"Make sure they're guarded at all times," he said. "I want our full staff vetted. I want to know who they worked for before, what their qualifications are and how long they've been working with us. A full sweep, Winter. I don't want any chances here. Have there been any other…" He grimaced. "Suicides?"

"None I've had reported so far. Captain Harrison's medical records came back. His blood alcohol level was off the charts."

"Are they using that as an excuse?"

"Yes. But with all due respect, sir, with that much in his system I'd be surprised he could even pull the trigger. He was drinking to forget something." Winter closed her eyes. "Or to prepare for something…"

He knew he was dead, then. Knew he was going to be silenced. To not even _try_ and escape spoke volumes of who they were up against. Whether he'd earned the position through favours or not, the man was a soldier; he was trained to fight. General Ironwood sighed angrily, hand clenching and unclenching at his side.

"Look after our visitors," he told Winter. "Offer them the positions and make it clear they must accept. If not for their safety, then to help locate their missing family members. If anyone you don't recognise tries to approach them, subdue them. Violently, if needs be."

Winter saluted. "Sir."

"General Ironwood!" a panicked voice cried. "General Ironwood!" Marrow, a member of the Ace-Ops, came rushing around the corner, skidding on the floor before righting himself and hurrying forward. He came to a stop with a lurch and panted, hands on knees. "General Ironwood. C-Clover said to find you, sir. Big news."

"What is it?" Ironwood growled as Marrow tried to salute. "At ease. What's the news?"

"An attack, sir. The White Fang are attacking."

"Now? Of all times? Where?"

"An outpost by the eastern coast. They cover the ocean nearby to monitor traffic in and out. They were attacked without warning and all Bullheads have been recalled. It'll be over by now," he said sadly. "But we caught footage. Clover says you need to see it."

Swearing, Ironwood sprinted down the corridor to the Ace-Ops' quarters. Pushing through the door, he received nods from Clover and Vine. The two women of the team were leaned over their own terminals watching something. Clover motioned for Ironwood to join him.

"Hit re-wind, Vine. Show the General what you found."

"As you say, sir." Vine drew the recording back. From the snippets, Ironwood could see gunfire, smoke and explosions. The knowledge the outpost had already been destroyed filtered through, making him grind his teeth together. Vine stopped it. "Here. This is what you need to see."

Ironwood leaned in as the man pressed play. The footage showed the outer perimeter of the base and the main gate, which was half-open. Soldiers knelt behind barricades and some fired from an APC parked in the entranceway. The defensive cordon remained strong in the face of the assault. This was no lightly defended dust convoy from the SDC, but a military outpost.

They were holding.

"Here it comes," Clover whispered.

Several faunus stepped out from cover on the screen. One, he recognised easily as Adam Taurus. For all that the man wore a mask, his name and hair and outfit were too distinctive to go unknown. A dangerous man by all accounts, second only to Sienna Khan. The other was a girl with black hair and a mask, while the third.

The third sported rough blonde hair a shade not dissimilar to the young woman he'd broken terrible news to not ten minutes before. Ironwood's stomach tensed. _Blonde hair isn't uncommon,_ he told himself. Even then, he knew his optimism wasn't warranted.

The three approached through a hail of fire, Adam taking the lead and defending the other two as they sprinted from cover to cover, using aura to block weapon fire and taking cover behind an anti-tank bollard. Close enough to throw a grenade if they wished. Eight, maybe ten metres from his judging. Ironwood's hands gripped the table's edge as he waited, every muscle in his body clenched.

It was so innocent to watch. So casual.

There was no grand display. No great motion. In one moment, the protracted fire fight was fast-paced and fearsome. The Atlas soldiers had shifted their focus to the closer threat, pinning down Adam Taurus since he was obviously the greater threat. The fire for a moment turned away from the faunus off-screen in the treeline.

And then suddenly, without explanation, his soldiers died. Bullets found armour and tore through it, rupturing flesh and snapping his men and women back. They fell like leaves, collapsing behind their barricades as the faunus gunfire found its mark. In a matter of seconds, it was over. Adam, the girl and the blonde stepped out of cover and into the scene of a massacre. The White Fang from the treeline advances, entering the outpost and checking bodies as Adam Taurus moved on and the blonde boy fell to his knees, ripping off his mask and throwing up into the mud.

The footage was grainy but there was no doubting the face. Not when he had been looking at reports and pictures of it for the last week.

"Who else has seen this footage?"

"It's been forwarded on to everyone of Captain rank or higher, sir, as per protocol." Clover stood tall, eyes closed in disappointment. "I'm sorry. I was unable to put a censor on it before that happened. By now, everyone has seen it."

Which meant the council would have seen it, and the Military Police and the officers. The news would trickle down to the rank and file as it so often did, and then the media. By morning, the news would be out.

And Jaune Arc would be a wanted man.

* * *

**This isn't the last we'll see of Lavender for those wanting more of her. We're in the first arc of the story which marks the White Fang arc, but there are more to come, along with a time skip at some point since, as noted, Jaune is sixteen now and the story isn't yet at the time of Beacon. Which I guess should be obvious seeing as Blake is still here.**

**Anyway, while Jaune's first action happened not from his PoV, the fallout of it will be from him. I only summarised this one because Jaune's involvement will be his least in the story. He's barely able to defend himself right now, so Adam and Blake simply **_**delivered him**_** within range to use his Semblance.**

**Making the first step on his descent oh so easy... **

**He didn't even have to pull the trigger himself. **

* * *

**Next Chapter: 24****th**** February**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	4. Chapter 4

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Jaune ran his thumb over the frosted screen, touching the faces of his sisters, all smiling happily at him. The photo was one included in a newspaper report on their tragic death. It was an old one taken from their home, back when they'd all been together. His own face sat in the middle, half-smiling and half-complaining about the two fingers poking up over his head like rabbit ears. Above him, his father, Nicholas, beamed happily.

"Hey." He looked up, seeing Blake approach with a steaming mug of something in one hand. She made space in the grass next to him and sat down, offering it with a smile. "You didn't have anything to eat. Adam wanted me to check up on you."

The mug smelled of tomato; it was some kind of soup. He took a sip and instantly felt sick. "I'm not hungry," he said, placing it down.

"Try anyway. Your body is, even if you're not."

His stomach growled to emphasise the fact. Laying the scroll he'd been given down, he picked the mug up again and tipped it back, closing his eyes and forcing himself to swallow. It tasted of blood. Or rather, it tasted of tomato and lentil, but his imagination filled in the gaps. His stomach clenched, ready to retch, but he forced it down and closed his mouth, wiping his lips clean.

Two months. That was how long he'd been a part of the White Fang now. Two months, four raids and one ambush they'd walked into without realising. Bloody and horrifying affairs that had him waking up in sweats.

"You'll get used to it."

"I don't _want_ to get used to it."

"I know." Blake sighed. "I was trying to help."

"It's been two months already. I can't believe I still feel this bad."

"It takes time. Do you think I got this far in a few days?" Sighing, she stretched her legs out in front of her, hooking her fingers over her toes and stretching next to him. "It was hard for us all at first. Even Adam looked haunted the first time he had to fight. We tell ourselves it's okay because it's for a better cause."

"Is it? Okay, I mean?"

"I don't know." Her golden eyes slid to him. "Is it okay for you if it's to find your family?"

"Yes. I'll do anything."

"Then you can't regret killing," she reasoned. "You can hate it, but you can't regret it because regret means actually wishing you didn't." Blake sighed. "I still hate it myself. I just… I don't know. I agree with everything Adam says but…" Angrily, she shook her head. "Ignore me. Focus on yourself. In a way, what you're doing is self-defence. At least when it comes to saving your family."

He doubted that would hold up in court. By any moral convention he was on the wrong side of history. The needs of the many were supposed to outweigh those of the few, yet he'd already been directly responsible for more than ten deaths. That was the size of his family including his parents, so any more was, on statistical terms, a bad trade.

Who could think like that, though? Who could say that their loved ones' lives didn't matter more than those of strangers? Each target they struck made sense. Part of Adam's plans to keep them all in good morale was to _explain_ why we were attacking each location. The first outpost had been to stop the refugees being located and rounded up, being sent back to Schnee mines like property. That included Lavender, who would have been taken to Atlas and almost certainly would have disappeared back to a hidden lab or been `silenced` before she could incriminate anyone.

The bases since then had been little different. Arms labs. Weapons testing facilities. A holding camp for escaped Schnee workers. Every attack was explained, both in terms of what they'd be doing and why. When he'd asked Adam the purpose behind that, he'd said it was because the White Fang were volunteers and not soldiers. It was better to treat them as such and give them the option to protest any attack. Jaune hadn't. Not one. Did that make him guilty of murder by omission? Probably. Not that it mattered since he was a murderer by action, having taken life already.

"Is there any news on my family?"

"Adam _is_ looking," Blake promised. "Don't tell him I told you but he's putting a lot more effort into it than you'd think. He wants to find one quickly so he can prove the White Fang can help. Says you need an early taste of success before you lose spirit."

The news comforted him, even if it shouldn't. Adam was only doing that because of his Semblance and how useful it was, but if he had to pick between someone trying to earn his Semblance by helping him and someone tying him to a lab bed like a test rat, the choice was obvious. At least Adam was trying. It hadn't yielded anything yet, but he told himself two months wasn't a long time when they had next to nothing to go on.

Except it burned. Every day he was out here was a day where they were locked away being forced to go through the same torture he had. Injections. Blood tests. Shocks. Bright lights. Invasive surgery. The sickness. Throwing up on his own chest and then being unable to get rid of it. It was all in his head, a medley of horrible memories that had his teeth grinding so hard together he was afraid they might shatter.

They were still going through that. Mom. The girls. They were all… Angrily, he closed his eyes, grinding down on that powerful urge to just run off and find them. As if by charging off into the wilderness he'd just `stumble upon them` and save the day. He _needed_ the White Fang. Needed Adam and his informants.

"I know it may not look like we're trying all that hard, but we're the combat team," Blake went on. "There are others in Atlas who work as scouts to find targets for us, not to mention informants in the city and even the military. It's those people he has looking for your sisters."

"Right." He forced himself to nod. "Thanks for letting me know. I wish Adam had."

"Adam has a lot of pressure on him to perform. If he didn't tell you, it's only because he wanted to bring good news and not excuses. He's a great leader but he's terrible at talking to people. He probably thought you wouldn't want to know unless it was good news."

The only reason he hadn't asked Adam was because he knew how busy the guy was and how much danger the rest of the White Fang were in. Demanding more effort on his family meant less spent on helping the faunus, which was the White Fang's primary goal. It would be selfish in the extreme, and Adam would be put in a spot where he had to either fulfil that or deny him. Neither option was good.

It might have worked if it was just one family member, but he still had six sisters and his mom missing. Assuming they weren't all in the same facility, he needed Adam _willing_ to help him. Not pressured. _If Blake's right then it doesn't matter anyway. He's trying._

"Tell me about them," Blake said, pointing to the scroll.

He sighed. "Did Adam ask you to come comfort me? Is this pity?"

Blake took a breath to argue, then suddenly deflated. Her words came out a whisper. "We lost two people in the last attack."

"Shit." His eyes closed. "I'm sorry. How?"

"They took too much aura damage and fell. Adam and I can't be everywhere and we're facing trained soldiers. Things like this… They just happen. No matter how well we try and plan things, there's always accidents."

He hadn't noticed their numbers having dwindled. That said a lot about him, didn't it? Or about how obsessed he was with his own problems. The faunus had it just as bad, except they were worked to death in horrible conditions.

"It was bad luck, then?"

"Bad luck or just inevitability. We're facing Atlas after all." Smiling weakly, Blake shrugged. "Adam is blaming himself. Looking at the plan to see what he could have done differently. It's not a good time to be around him. He'll wear himself out and then I'll go to him and we'll sleep it off." Blake scratched her arm. He knew that meant sleeping together; it was no secret Blake and Adam were involved.

He wasn't sure what Blake's lack of enthusiasm meant. Would it be worse because Adam was in such a bad mood? Should he say something? Was it his _place_ to say something?

"I guess I'm looking for something to distract me as well," she said, taking the option away before he could decide what he was meant to do. "It'll be even worse when we have to tell their families."

Volunteers, not soldiers, which made everything so much harder. And Adam and Blake weren't trained and experienced commanders. Blake was his age, Adam a couple of years older, and they'd be thrown into this just as easily as he had.

Either way, Blake needed distracting. And to be honest, so did he.

"Saphron is the eldest." He pointed. "She was always the second mother, always helping mom out with cooking, cleaning or looking after us. She's married now, to a girl called Terra. They even have a kid – we were going to Atlas to see them when all this happened. The next two are Coral and Sable. The first twins. They're… well…" Jaune smiled for what felt like the first time all day. "Sable was a lot like Saphron, caring and soft and doting on everyone younger than her. Coral couldn't have been any more different. She never fit in all that well. Too clinical and sometimes rude. I always thought something was up with her. She could be cold. Harsh. There were times I thought she wouldn't have cared if we were all dead, then times she'd be watching over us without us noticing until the last second. I'd say she's the most complicated of them all."

"What about those two?" Blake pointed to two girls who looked identical but for a shock of blue hair on one and a shock of green on the other. "They have to be twins as well."

"Jade and Hazel, the terrible twosome. Identical twins with attitude. They swear _all the time_ and they loved to terrify the guys back home. They're only a bit older than me, but they act like I'm the baby brother. They're vindictive but protective. The one time a girl bullied me, they came down on her like a tonne of bricks. In their words, because _they_ are the only ones allowed to bully me. They were absolute _cows_ around the house. Messy, loud, rude. You name it, they're it." At the time it was always such a pain in the ass, but now… Gods, he wished they could have it back.

"They sound like fun. Did they dye their hair that way to be different or is that somehow natural? I've seen weirder hair colours. Mostly from Ilia."

"It's dyed. We could always pick them apart. Even if they're twins it always seemed obvious, but they got super pissed after Jade's ex-boyfriend got it wrong and grabbed Hazel's butt thinking it was Jade. He got a real handful."

"Is that why he became her ex?"

"No. They were used to mistakes by then and it was just an accident. He got yelled at but that was all. They were still dating when… when…" He cut off, eyes closed, fists tight. "I-I just assume he's moved on by now, since he probably thinks Jade was killed by Grimm." Blake rubbed his shoulder. It didn't make him feel much better. If anything, it was going to make him cry. He forced himself on before he could. "You met Lavender. Younger than me but not the youngest. Sweet and kind. Sickly." His breath trembled. "But she's free, at least. Safe."

"My parents will look after her. Ilia will also be there."

He nodded. That was, he reminded himself, so much more than everyone else had. "The youngest is Amber. The one held against my chest."

"She's so small. Like a little you…"

"Don't let her hear you say that. Amber's the youngest and she knows it; knows it and hates it. Always the baby, always the _babied_. She's sweet if you talk to her like a normal person but talk over her head even once and she'll never forgive you."

Blake laughed. "Sounds like she has something to prove."

"That's a good way of putting it. She used to follow me around and imitate me when we were younger, but once she went to the same school I did, I guess she realised her big brother wasn't so cool."

"Oh? There a story there?"

"Nothing much to tell. I was the average kid. Boring. Amber still loved me, but she stopped looking up to me like I farted the moon and stars." Jaune laughed along with Blake, rubbing his thumb over Amber's smiling face.

"They'll be okay, Jaune. They're all potential carriers so they'll still be alive. The potential of your Semblance will keep them from alive."

He knew what Blake was doing. Appreciated it. But after hearing what they called Lavender, he knew that wasn't true. The scientists would be trying to force out their Semblances, and the second it didn't match his, they'd be killed. Disposed of. Like trash. Easier than keeping a living, eating and breathing security risk around.

"They'll be okay," Blake insisted, rubbing his back.

"I know," he lied. "I know."

/-/

Ironwood read through the reports with a frown that felt all too commonplace nowadays. The news was both good and bad – good that Winter had managed to root out some suspicious placements in his unit, but bad that those slipped under the radar in the first place. He'd always thought himself meticulous and aware. This painted a picture so different he wondered if he was still the same man anymore.

If he'd missed this, how much more had passed by under his nose? The workload of a General was far more than the Captaincy he'd held before, but this was ridiculous. _Did I slip? Or did I let myself be distracted by the bigger picture? Either way, this is inexcusable._

Winter stood before him, hands linked behind her back, waiting for his evaluation. His first instinct was to praise and go from there, but he forced himself to read through every single page before making a decision. In his mind, Winter was beyond reproach, but such arrogance in his own judgment was what had led to this in the first place.

One of his guards had been a bank balance inflated beyond what it should be. The first excuse upon Winter's interrogation was that he was also self-employed as a security consultant, and lo and behold his official records stated as such. His company was fully registered, had clients and full tax records.

However, a deeper look revealed that those clients did not exist. The records stamped and accepted by a tax office famous for its meticulous investigation of any and all anomalies came back frustratingly sparse. Ironwood had once paid too _much_ tax in as a soldier. Once. He'd been dragged into a meeting and thoroughly chastised on his error, then made to fill out his tax forms in front of them. They'd been brutal, and yet this had been allowed to pass. And if you couldn't trust Atlas Revenue and Customs, who could you trust?

No one, apparently. They could trust no one.

He was gone now. Stripped of his position and under investigation. Ironwood had him under guard lest his former employers come try to silence him as they had Harrison, but they couldn't be sure it was even the same people. Shameful as it was to admit it, Atlas had more enemies than just these ones. Hell, these ones were apparently allies of Atlas, if guilty in their own right for such disgusting methods. This latest mole could be White Fang, media or even being paid by another Kingdom for all he knew.

_Brothers save me from all these spies. Life was so much easier two months ago._

"This is a good report," he finally said, laying the last page down and taking a quick drink of water. His head was pounding. "Thank you for compiling it, Specialist, and you have my gratitude for rooting out apparent traitors in our midst. I trust that all who remain have been vetted."

"To the best of my ability, sir."

No one could guarantee that meant innocence, only a heightened degree of competency. There hadn't yet been an attempt on the Cotta-Arc family. The Ace-Ops were watching them at all hours, even monitoring their new quarters while they slept. Constant scans of said quarters revealed little, though a scan of Winter's office revealed a listening device under her chair and woven into the fabric which still had her fuming.

His own furniture had immediately been replaced and checked. Nothing. That worried him. It meant that they had something else to monitor him with.

"Have we had any luck tracking down the other Arc family members?"

"None, sir. I've had Clover go through everything twice hoping for a stroke of luck but it's just not there. On Zeki's suggestion, I've asked any and all transfers of medical equipment, blood bags and blood stock out of Atlas to be reported to us, but I'm not sure how useful that will be. It can't be hard to take blood from outside the Kingdom, or to find personnel who share a blood type with the victims."

"It's worth a shot, Winter. Tell Mr Zeki to continue forwarding any ideas through."

"Sir." Winter saluted. "If I may, sir, how are Mrs Saphron and Terra taking this?"

"The fact that their brother is now a wanted terrorist? Poorly, Winter. Poorly. Mrs Saphron is distraught but I have the sinking suspicion her wife doesn't even fault him for making that decision. She's much more aware of our situation."

"She worked in the CCT, sir. It's not hard to imagine she could find some of our records. I could speak with her…"

"No. I appreciate the offer but I don't want to alienate them." There was no telling what might happen to them if they left his sight. The son still had the potential to carry Null within him, and that made him too tempting a target.

"With all due respect, sir, was it wise to tell them the truth?"

"Wise? No. Necessary? Yes. If we're going to keep them close then they'd have figured it out eventually. Ideally, that wouldn't happen until we found one of their sisters, but we don't live in a world of ideals. The _second_ they'd have read an article showing the boy lived, they'd start asking if anyone else did. Any silence from us there would turn them against us."

In the end, if they were going to find out one way or another then he'd decided it was best they be frank. Get it out the way, let them shout at and blame him, then start working on ways to fix this. Easier to deal with their anger now than later in a critical moment.

"Our best bet is to track him down before this gets worse," he said, considering the question done. Winter didn't protest it. "His plan is obvious enough. He's going to try and find those that remain in captivity, and the White Fang are going to help, both to earn his loyalty and to expose us for this whole mess. Our options are limited. We either find them first and bring him in, or we stop him."

"Atlas wants the latter, sir."

"Of course it does. And to brush this under the rug."

The guards at the door shifted unhappily, but Winter remained unphased. "If we step too far out of line, we'll be recalled."

"That's why we won't be going against the consensus. We shall focus on capturing the target, but he will be under _our_ jurisdiction. Any attempts for him to be taken away will be met with force. We can't have a Semblance like that running around free, let alone working for the White Fang."

Ironwood sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, aware of the hypocrisy. It was the same excuse the other officers were giving him for why they should move to kill on sight. Bomb him from the sky the second they located him and not place anyone at risk stepping within range of his Semblance. The worst part was that he couldn't tell if those supporting his call for the boy to be taken alive and rehabilitated were on his side or didn't want to see Null and its potential lost to Atlas.

Who was his enemy - those who voted against him or those who voted with?

"Do we have anything to show for the last two months?" Ironwood asked. "Aside from rooting out spies, that is. Are we really no closer to locating even a single family member beside the Cotta-Arcs?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

Infuriating. Ironwood slammed one hand down on his new desk. Angry as he was, the news didn't stun him in the slightest. It spoke of a concerted effort to keep them from the truth. Something he'd known they'd be up against but also knew they couldn't do anything about. They had to operate within the rules of the military, which meant that so long as their opponents _didn't_, they'd have the advantage.

They needed results. There'd be no chance of convincing Arc they were his best chance of finding his sisters without having something definitive to offer. Empty platitudes weren't going to cut it, especially now with so many out for his head since he'd officially joined the White Fang. The SDC had even made mention of offering a reward, though he'd managed to curtail Jacques for now. The last thing they needed was mercenary huntsman roaming the countryside making matters worse.

"Dismissed," he said. "All of you."

Winter saluted and the two guards took the instruction for what it was, saluting and stepping out to give him a moment of privacy. Ironwood downed the rest of his drink and popped a painkiller while keeping the water in his mouth. Washing it all away, he tapped on his terminal and began a call. It patched through to the CCT and rang four times before being answered. An image appeared, Ozpin's face flickering into view.

"_James. To what do I owe-?"_

"Wait." Ironwood held a hand up. He typed into the terminal and watched as a scan initiated. It took a few seconds, with Ozpin waiting patiently on the other end. When it came back, Ironwood sighed. "We're clear. Apologies, Oz. I was checking fro listeners."

"_I was going to ask if the situation had gotten any better but I suppose that answers the question for me. No progress, then?"_

"None on locating Arc of his missing family. Plenty on discovering just how compromised my teams are over here."

"_Oh dear. I've done a little searching on my end as you asked. It turns out a nurse in the medical facility Mr Arc and his family visited received a rather large payment from an undisclosed bank account. I've had it tracked but, naturally, it's been closed for almost a year."_

A throwaway account. Nothing unusual. "And the nurse? She's not dead, is she?"

"_Not dead, no, but unhelpful. She confessed all she knows, but all that amounts to is that she was something of a talent scout. She honestly believed it was for a huntsman academy to scout promising students. She had no idea it might be criminal."_

An idiot, then. Not unusual, but nothing they could use. This proved the matter deeper and proved Ozpin's innocence – not that he'd been in doubt. The whole thing came back to Atlas, though he was sure the bank account would be somewhere far flung like Vacuo.

"_You have my support, James, but I'm limited in what I can do."_ Ozpin sighed and Ironwood heard a door open on his end, seeing Glynda in the back of the screen. _"I must go. Keep me updated on anything that happens. I've an interest in his Semblance myself."_

The call ended, Ironwood leaning back with a loud sigh. Little progress. As usual.

But did Ozpin have to make that last statement sound so ominous?

/-/

Jaune brought down the handgun and peered through the dim light. While everyone else in the camp might have perfect night vision, he didn't, and his scroll set up with the torch pointing at the target didn't help much.

"Three on target. One a little low, but still a hit." Adam's voice came from behind. "You're getting better."

Flicking the safety on, he holstered the gun at his waist. "Blake is a good teacher."

"Hmm. I'll tell her that. She'll be pleased to hear it." Adam tilted his head. The `walk with me` gesture was obvious enough and Jaune made a quick excuse to grab his scroll and came back, following Adam through the camp and toward the outskirts.

It was late evening, though most everyone was awake. The White Fang worked nocturnally, sleeping through the day and waking up early evening to march, the better to evade Atlas patrols and make use of their genetic advantages. Today was a rare moment of rest, with them intending to meet an informant before planning their next move. Leaving the loose perimeter of the camp, the two of them stood in the treeline nearby, out of hearing distance of the camp, though not sight.

"Is something wrong?" Jaune asked.

"Something you need to see." Adam brought out a rolled-up newspaper from his coat. "My informant brought this with them today. You're on the front cover."

Another wanted poster and article. The first time he'd realised he'd been made a national criminal, he'd almost cried. Adam had been there to shake some sense into him, telling him this was what he signed up for. Nowadays it affected him little.

"What about it? It's another article on how dangerous I am." He skimmed the subtitle. "Though I notice they're still not mentioning my Semblance."

"It's not in their best interests to advertise how useful you'd be to enemies or rivals."

More evidence that the group behind his family's kidnapping held power. Or influence. They could have come clean and made the researchers the criminals, but those were never even mentioned. The stories always painted him as a survivor who had broken free from somewhere. Sometimes it was a mental facility, while other times it was a hospital – him waking up from a coma and leaving.

Early on, they painted him as a victim waylaid and misled by the White Fang. That soon changed. He became deranged, dangerous and unpredictable. To be avoided at all costs, but for anyone who saw him to inform the authorities.

"They experimented on me yet I'm the criminal…"

"Technically, you are," Adam pointed out. "And technically, the ones who experimented on you aren't."

Jaune put the paper down. "Excuse me?"

"It's how the world works." Adam shrugged and leaned back against a tree, watching him through his mask. He always kept it on and Jaune knew why. "Do you know why laws are made?"

"To set rules that keep the peace."

"Close. It's to control people. Sometimes, for good reasons – like making theft or murder illegal. Other times, the reasons are more self-serving, like having to pay taxes on time or being forced to serve in the military. They're a set of guidelines put down by those in power to control the masses. To instil order, but not peace. Order. Whatever _their_ idea of order is. That's why laws differ from Kingdom to Kingdom."

"Because what they class as order is different?"

"Yes. But it's all founded on the same principle. Power. Look at how it's enforced. What happens if you break into a shop to rob it and get caught?"

"You get arrested and put in prison."

"And why don't you just break out?"

"Because I wouldn't be able to."

"Because you lack power," Adam repeated. "Crimes have punishments because they're _threats_. Consequences. They say that you should follow this law because if you don't, we'll punish you for not doing so. So, if that's the case, why do some people still break laws?"

Jaune thought for a second. "Because they don't fear the threat."

"Yes. Or there is a bigger threat they fear more, like a desperate person stealing to feed their family because the thought of their children dying is worse than that of being imprisoned. Sadly, it goes the other way too. A threat is only as good as the power to enforce it. Take the SDC for example. Slaver is illegal, but you've seen what they do." Adam brought a hand up and removed his mask, showing the grisly brand. "You've seen this."

"They don't care about the laws…"

"Because they're powerful. Because Atlas knows that if they look too closely, the SDC will up and leave to another Kingdom, taking with it all that money, employment and those favourable dust contracts."

Jaune scowled. "So what, they're allowed to break the law!?"

"They're not allowed. They're just too powerful to stop. Or Atlas is powerless. That goes both ways. Imagine for a second that an important person from Vacuo fled to Atlas, taking with them important and secret information that would benefit Atlas. Vacuo naturally wants the person back to punish and imprison them, but Atlas refuses. Why?"

"Because Atlas is stronger than Vacuo."

"Correct. Were it the other way around, Atlas could exert pressure to force Vacuo to capitulate. I don't mean war, though it could be. Trade deals, embargoes and withholding technology or dust could all force Vacuo to give in. Because both Vacuo and Atlas know this, it never comes up. Vacuo doesn't take the risk and gives in before an argument can even begin, and thus peace – and order – is maintained."

It was the same for him. He was just one guy – one guy with a powerful Semblance, but still one person among hundreds of thousands. If Atlas came in on his side, promising to find those responsible for his family and bring them to justice, then they would have to dedicate if it was worth it to do so.

These people, whoever they were, had power. Power enough to take his family, kill his father and imprison them in numerous labs to test on. Power enough to have Atlesian soldiers guard them, and underground facilities manned with robots. None of that would be cheap or easy to procure, so they had resources, power and wealth.

He had a Semblance and justice.

From Atlas' perspective, it was all too easy to see who they should align with.

Even if they wanted to do the best for him or for the right of law, they'd be afraid the people behind it all might leave and work for another Kingdom instead. Could they take that risk? Of course not. _It's just like the White Fang. No matter how hard they try or how much evidence they produce, Atlas will never turn on the SDC because it needs them._

The truth didn't matter. Justice didn't matter. Only stability.

"I'm the criminal because I'm going against the order," he said. "And they're not because it's easier to pretend they don't exist, so long as they don't do anything obvious or against Atlas. That's what you're saying."

Adam nodded and pushed his mask back into place. "It likely goes deeper than that. Either influence in the right places or those in power taking money from this organisation. The point remains that Atlas won't ever act. Only you can."

"And that means going against the law. It's all about strength?"

"Not strength necessarily. Strong countries can be bullied if you have something they need. It's about power, be that information, resources or strength. Back when the White Fang were peaceful, we lacked power. Atlas had to choose between giving into our demands and alienating the SDC or ignoring us and pleasing the SDC. It was a balance of angry and powerless faunus against the biggest and wealthiest company on Remnant."

An uneven balance. Put like that it was no wonder Atlas didn't help them. It just wasn't in their best interests. All they'd do was make some poor faunus happy.

"Now, we're more impactful," Adam said, nodding back to camp. "Now, when they choose the SDC over us they know we'll launch an attack. And when that happens, their people get angry. They demand answers. Action. All of a sudden, it's not just some powerless faunus protestors causing problems, but everyone in Atlas. They can't afford to ignore us anymore."

"They hunt you instead."

Adam shrugged. "Risk of the job. And that's mostly the SDC's influence again steering Atlas against us. If we hold out long enough, make our voices loud enough, Atlas will be forced to listen."

"And voices means attacks?"

"Actions speak louder than words. Tell me, did your pleas change the minds of your captors?"

"No. Action did." Jaune scowled. "Is this your way of telling me to stay with the White Fang?"

"Not really. The same principle works with us, you realise. You have power to negotiate with me, like you did when I agreed to help. And you're too powerful for me to force into anything. You could drop our aura and get us all killed if you wanted to, and there wouldn't be a thing I or Blake could do about it."

"I wouldn't."

"I trust you on that, but the point remains." Adam didn't look too worried, which Jaune assumed was a good thing. "The point I'm making is that if you ever wished to leave, you're free to do so. Don't feel I can force you to stay. If I did that, I'd be making the same mistake your captors did."

"Why bring this up now…?"

"Because of that." Adam pointed to the paper. "Read it."

Jaune did so, hands tensing and scrunching the paper up the further and further he got. When he was done, his fingers had dug through the weak pages and torn some of it off. With his body visibly shaking, he brought the paper down. "They have Saphron."

"And they're calling for you to hand yourself in peacefully, saying they'll clear your name." Adam looked unimpressed but still said, "It's your choice in the end, Jaune. I've no interest forcing your hand if it means turning you against us."

He almost wished Adam would take the option away from him. Staring down at the pages, he read the quote – apparently from Saphron – begging him to turn himself in and `come home` to her.

Home. Home?

How could she say Atlas was home? Home was where the heart was. Where your family was. For her and Terra that might be the case, but his home was in Ansel, abandoned, while everyone else was scattered around Atlas as prisoners based in human labs. How could she say that?

Or had she said it at all? They were words printed on paper. He had no proof it was from her. No guarantee. They could have forced her to say anything or tricked her. On the other hand, they might have told her it and meant it, but what guarantee was there it would work? These people were in Atlas and he was _the_ carrier of the Semblance they were willing to kill for.

How long would it take for him to `die` in an accident?

To wake up back in a cage…

"D-Do you think it's real?" he asked Adam.

"I have no idea." The honesty cut. He'd honestly hoped Adam would just say no. "Apparently, she's under the protection of General Ironwood. I know of him, but not enough to tell you what he's like. It could be that he genuinely wants to protect her. At the very least, it's going to look terrible if anything happens to her. As for whether he'd be able to get your sisters back…"

He trailed off, and that spoke of nothing good. General Ironwood might try, but he was in Atlas and Atlas was already covering things up. There wasn't any mention of finding his family in here. They might argue that was to prevent a panic, but the only thing they'd promised was to clear his name.

Would they even try? And if they did, would they find anything?

_As far as Atlas is concerned, the group that took me doesn't exist. You can't prosecute something that doesn't exist. I'd be walking back into the hornet's nest with nothing but one man's assurance I'll be okay. _Saphron didn't count. He trusted her, but she didn't have any power. Didn't have any say. The only one who did was this Ironwood man, and he'd not been there to save him from the lab.

That was Adam and Blake.

"I'm staying." He tore the paper in two and tossed it down. "Atlas can rot. If the offer's still open, I'll take it after I save everyone."

"Glad to hear it. In that case, I _may_ have some good news for you."

Jaune's heart leapt into his throat. His hands were on Adam's collar, eyes wide and body shaking. Adam didn't push him off. He sighed and gently removed Jaune's fingers, stepping back.

"May," he said. "I _may_ have good news. I can't promise anything and these places are secret for a reason, so it may end up being a complete bust. I don't want to get your hopes up by promising something I can't guarantee."

"Anything," Jaune begged.

"Alright. Alright. Calm down. The scouts stumbled upon what they _believe_ to be an Atlas facility based about a day out from here. That's why we're camped here and why I needed to meet with my informant. What I typically do when we find a place is cross-reference it with informants in Atlas. They try to find what it is, what its purpose is and anything else. From that, I can figure out if it's a good target to hit. Not all are. If it's a forward outpost to clear out Grimm, we'd be looking at soldiers _and_ huntsmen, and while you could invalidate the latter, our issues aren't with huntsmen protecting everyone from Grimm."

Schnee mining outposts, holding facilities and weapons testing had been their targets so far. Those all made sense in terms of what the White Fang wanted, with the most military having been the scouting outpost that would have spotted and intercepted Lavender and the other refugees.

"What made this one different?"

"The fact my agent couldn't find anything. He's up in the military and everything is organised somewhere, but he couldn't even find a mention of this place. That means one of two things. Either it's something Atlas doesn't know about, or something they want kept secret."

"A lab…"

"Maybe," Adam stressed. "But it could also be a bunker, an abandoned base or a completely different group of people entirely. We're going to check it out, and by _we,_ I mean me, you and Blake. I don't want to risk the others on this."

He knew Adam was trying not to get his hopes up too high but it was impossible not to react. His heart was racing and his body tingled. This could be it. Progress. It might not be and that was a very real possibility, but if this place was unknown to Atlas then they _had_ to check it out.

"H-How did we find it?" he stammered, too excited to speak calmly. "If it's so hidden."

"Because we stay hidden as well. Our scouts look for routes for us to take without being spotted, and that means travelling off the beaten path. Deep valleys. Rough terrain. Rocky areas that Atlesian armour would struggle on. We move from one concealed location to another, which conveniently happens to be the exact kind of place you'd set up a facility you wanted concealed from Atlas as well."

Luck, then. Or rather being in the right place at the right time. They weren't a small procession so staying off the radar meant some uncomfortable hiking at times. The scouts either must have stumbled right on it or seen movement. Maybe Bullheads coming and going or Atlas personnel where none had any right being. That would have been reported back to Adam, who would check it with his insiders and the rest was history.

"When do we move?"

"Tonight." Adam nodded back to camp. "Ready up. We move in three hours."

Nodding, Jaune charged back into camp, dodging past other White Fang until he reached his tent. The nerves were gone. Fighting Atlas was hard, but if one of those monsters who tried to kill Lavender put themselves in front of him, he'd have no qualms pulling the trigger. Picking up a fresh vest with ammo packs sewn into pockets, he pulled it on over his grey and black uniform, then pulled his mask into place. Through the thin, slatted eyeholes, the world felt distant.

In the mirror, the slats glowed yellow and purple before they became dark again. The familiar eb and flow of his aura flicking off and on again washed over him. The control came easier, even if it wasn't perfect. It would be enough to take advantage of an opening when an opponent had to reload. He'd have their aura ripped away and be on them within moments. Turning away from the mirror, he marched out the tent.

_I'm coming. Hold on, everyone. I'm coming._

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**Bit of a longer chapter today. Jaune's first proper taste of action will be next chapter. I've just allowed two months to pass so that he can reasonably have a little more skill at that. What he managed before was mostly due to luck and the aid of Lavender's Semblance.**

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**Next Chapter: 2****nd**** March**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	5. Chapter 5

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing ****_my_**** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

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**Chapter 5**

* * *

Picking out the individual details of the base was almost impossible. The land swelled up on either side with trees on one side and an expanse of jagged rock on the other, leading up toward one of the many mountain ranges that dotted Atlas. It was midday and the sun beat down on them but try as he might Jaune could make out no evidence of there being a hidden facility.

"Look at what isn't there," Adam murmured, staring through a pair of binoculars. "No wildlife. No birds. No rubble. This is at the base of a mountain so you'd expect some fallen rocks. Why is the area so clean?"

Because someone was moving it – he could figure that out from the contextual clues, but it didn't help him spot the signs himself. That changed when movement stirred. Jaune, Adam and Blake ducked low, watching as a man in an Atlas military uniform stepped out from seemingly nowhere and removed his helmet, dropping it to the floor. He reached down to his waist and drew something out. Moments later, a small orange glow emanated from a cigarette.

"That's our cue. We'll rush in as a group, but if we need to split up then I want you with Jaune, Blake. Jaune, don't use your Semblance except in bursts. Let Blake deal with weak enemies and only use it if she's in trouble."

"Okay."

It was just going to be the three of them. Too much risk to bring others in. With any luck they'd be able to stick together, but Adam was right to plan. Whatever entrance the man had come out of was surely going to expand and split underground. He'd have thought going off on his own was the best choice, but what would he do if he came across a firing line of soldiers? He couldn't Semblance his way forward and they'd bring him down under a hail of fire.

Adam held a finger over his lips and made some quick gestures. Despite trying to learn the group's rudimentary signals and signs, the most he could get from it was `flank wide`. Blake tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to follow, and the two made their way to the right, around and away from Adam, who clicked Wilt free with a quiet hiss.

Blake was quieter through the underbrush than he, but he did his best. They skirted the clearing without stepping in – there was sure to be surveillance – and came around behind the outcropping of rock the soldier was at. There, Blake stabbed quickly forward with two fingers and broke cover, dashing forward. Subtlety wasn't the game apparently. The element of surprise was going to be shot the second they stepped inside.

"What? You there, halt!"

That didn't sound like it was aimed in their direction. Gunfire barked toward Adam, who had appeared from the trees but quickly ducked back into cover. The soldier kept firing ahead, reaching for his helmet which likely contained a radio. Distracted and focused on Adam's last position, he didn't notice Blake coming from above until her feet connected with the back of his head.

She carried him down to the floor and knelt on the man's shoulders, taking his head in a tight hold and squeezing. The soldier kicked and tried to break free but slowly stilled, choked unconscious. Blake wasted little time stealing a pouch on his waist and tossing it his way.

Jaune flipped the Velcro and flicked through it, finding an ID card with a name, picture and serial number. He held it to the metal door cleverly hidden among the rocks and was rewarded with it sliding open with a hiss.

Adam arrived behind them, Wilt drawn. Stopping by the downed soldier, he reversed it and stabbed, piercing the man through the throat.

"Adam!"

"He could have woken up and attacked us from behind or sealed the tunnel and locked us inside. We can't leave an enemy behind us, Blake. You know that."

"He was subdued…"

"That could have changed at any moment and we've no one to keep watch over a prisoner." Adam pushed past her and entered. "Come on. We need to move quickly."

Blake's fists trembled at her side but she entered after, mask doing little to hide her distaste as she brushed past Jaune. Even if he felt the urge to say something, he was too frightened for his sisters' sakes to do so. He stepped in behind them, leaving the dead man outside.

The interior corridor was well lit with white-grey floors set in segmented square pieces, tall concrete walls and a ceiling dotted with spotlights. It dipped down about six steps and then levelled out, continuing ahead until what looked to be a junction with two visible doors, metallic with glass windows about head height.

The walls were bathed in red suddenly, a long and undulating siren sounding.

"Well, I didn't expect we'd go unnoticed," Adam said. "Move. Speed is of the utmost importance. They might kill the captives to keep their secrets."

Rushing forward, they reached the junction. Without speaking Adam pointed a hand to the right and went left, punching through the door while Blake and Jaune took the other. Doorways dotted either side of the hallway, marked with nameplates. Those went ignored, even if people might have been within. It just wasn't possible his sisters would be unprotected, so anywhere not guarded was ignored for now. They could always come back later.

With the red light causing the room to pulse red and grey, he almost missed the movement ahead. Blake didn't. Placing a hand over his chest, she ushered him into one of the offices and scanned the room. It was empty, and not in the dishevelled way one would expect of someone having abandoned it the second the alarm started.

Peeking around the doorway, Blake hissed. "Ambush ahead. Stay here."

"My Semblance-"

"Is more a problem than a use here. It's fine. Wait one minute and follow."

Blake was out and dashing down the corridor a second later. Gunfire barked and his body tensed, but fact it continued ironically calmed him down. It meant they hadn't brought her down, and with aura and training she could surely close the distance.

Eager to not be entirely useless, he stepped behind the desk and rummaged through the drawers. There was a gun, a spare ID, a box of mints and some tacks and paperclips. Nothing all too useful. A file in the second contained medical words, terms and figures he didn't understand but which could have been a member of his family. Shaking the mouse just to test it, the monitor came to live, but asking for login details. The person working there hadn't been kind enough to write those on a post-it note stuck to the screen.

Behind the box asking for a username and password was Atlas' symbol, but beneath that, several words, almost like a company name but obviously a slogan.

_In peace, prepare for war._

"Ominous." Jaune abandoned it with a shake of his head and ran outside, trusting that the gunfire having ceased was a good sign. Blake stood washed in red but coming closer revealed it the light and not blood. Her opponents were downed, several groaning, all clearly still alive.

"We can keep going," Blake said, mask focused on him. Even without seeing her eyes he could tell she was watching him, telling him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't allow what Adam had done up above.

Had Adam really been wrong? These people would get up and fight them again. In the end it didn't matter because he both couldn't fight Blake and didn't want to waste time. Nodding, he ran ahead, Blake catching up and overtaking to take the lead again. To Jaune's frustration, they came to another break in the hallway, this one containing a crossroads in an expanded hexagonal-shaped room, three doors aside from the one they'd entered leading off in the cardinal directions.

"What now? Where do we go?"

"Lab 1-C. Docks. Containment." Blake read the three plaques by the doors and swore under her breath. "Couldn't be easy, could it? We'll have to split up. Will you be okay?"

He had no idea. "I'll be fine. Which two?"

"Containment and Docks," Blake decided after a long second to think, during which the siren continued wailing. "I'll take containment – if it's where your sisters are, they may be trying to kill them. I'm the better fighter. You should take those docks. They must be a way out and they might try and ship your sisters to a different site if they have one. The labs sound like testing. It's probably blood, DNA and the like. If not, we'll check it later."

It was all a guess at that point but he agreed enough with what she said to nod and push on, sliding the metal door to the docks open and watching Blake disappear toward containment. His skin itched to follow, but she was right. If time was of the essence then it was better _she_ be the one to go that way. Turning off aura wouldn't let him keep the girls alive any longer. Jaune ran ahead, gasping for breath with lungs burning.

_If I can cut off the exit, we'll trap them all in here. Need to make sure they don't escape._

A soldier burst out from a door ahead, fell to one knee and took aim. The corridor was so narrow there was no hope of dodging. Jaune brought his hands up over his face instinctively, tensing every muscle in his body in the expectation of agony.

The tight, controlled, burst of fire struck his chest and blew the wind from his lungs. It was like being punched by needles. He dropped to one knee, eyes wide and body shaking. A second burst of three or four shots tore his leg out from under him, knocking him flat on his face. Without aura, he'd have died instantly. Curling into a ball, he heaved for air, lungs burning.

The gunfire stopped. "Control," the soldier announced. "Unit Theta-Seventeen reporting. Target subdued. Possible match on Subject 000. Please advise."

The response came with too much gain for Jaune to make out, but the soldier had obviously received his orders. With a quick "Roger", he held his gun low and stepped forward, cautiously approaching.

_They want me alive. Want to take me back and test on me._

That would be convenient for Atlas, wouldn't it? Sweep him back under the rug and pretend he never existed. No one would care except for Saphron and Lavender, and that was assuming they weren't kidnapped as well.

"I won't… go back…"

The man's boot reached his shoulder.

Jaune's eyes pooled with colour. His hand lashed out, driving the knife he's drawn into the man's leg, just above his boots. He cancelled his Semblance immediately after, just as the soldier screamed and fell. Adam's training saved his life, because even falling the soldier had the wits necessary to bring his weapon down and open fire, choosing to save his own life over completing some mission.

Six dust rounds impacted Jaune's back, exploding over him. Teeth gritted through the pain, he surged up and tackled the soldier, who fell, flat-footed. They landed together and Jaune immediately took a fist to the skull. The soldier followed it up by pushing his rifle _up_ into Jaune's face, smashing metal against skin to knock him off. He then took the stock and swung it by pushing with one hand and pulling on the muzzle, striking him across the cheek.

Aura took it all, but it didn't take the single round Jaune injected into the man's chest, pressing the handgun Adam gave him directly over the soldier's armour, over his heart, and squeezing the trigger. As he did, his eyes pooled yellow and purple.

The body under him bucked. The man's mouth tore open in a startled gasp.

And then, he died.

Panting and sweating, Jaune straddled the dead man with his eyes wide, the colours slowly fading as the Null Semblance flicked off. His shoulders were shaking, his cheek burning and his jaw aching so bad he thought a tooth might have been knocked loose. All of that paled in comparison to the nausea rolling up inside him. He was afraid to take the gun away and see the damage he'd done.

It was less than he expected.

The shot had pierced armour, and whatever mess it had made of the man's chest was mostly hidden beneath what remained. The hole was round and cracked at the edges, with red staining out and shadows hiding the gore within. The fact he was _sat_ on a corpse wasn't so easy to dismiss, however, and he fell off, kicking away with both feet to reach the corridor wall and shiver. Tears prickled at his eyes.

_Focus. Focus! I need to save them._

"Keep moving," he rasped, pushing a hand down. It threatened to give way in much the same way his knees almost buckled, but he pulled himself up with a hand on the wall. Panic later. Break down later. One foot pushed forward, the other following, his body half-leaning on the wall as he slid on, gun dripping blood at his side.

Killing had been so easy. Too easy.

He hated it.

/-/

"Damn it!"

Containment had been the right call but Blake kicked a metal chair across the room, sending it shattering into the wall with a loud bang. The containment cells were empty. They obviously hadn't been, what with the patches of blood and the medical equipment everywhere, not to mention the prints of _wheels_ in some of the bloodstains suggesting they'd been moved out on gurneys, but it was empty now.

_I must have missed them. Damn it, damn it, damn it._

That explained the lack of any concerted effort to stop her reaching the cells. Blake made to leave and backtrack, only to pause as she noted the documents strewn on the main desk. Picking them up revealed several different sheets, some of which she couldn't understand for all the medical details written on them.

Another was somewhat easier.

**/**

**Test Log #442**

**/**

**Attending Researcher:** Dr. Christina Umber. Jnr Dr. Harold Clementine

**Object:** Subject 001

**Status:** Healthy

**Semblance:** Unlocked. Inviable.

**Updated Status:** Expendable

**Research Suggestion by Dr. Christina Umber:** Disposal of Subject 001 is inefficient. Please see proposal log 442, submitted for approval.

**Research Suggestion Approved by Snr Dr. Alcott**

/

/

/

**Test Log:**

Subject 001, known as `Mother` by the staff, is a forty-six-year-old female specimen collected with Subjects 000 through 007. Subject 001's Semblance was previously unlocked during Test Log #441, in which repeated trauma caused a panic-induced Semblance capable of launching Jnr Dr Clementine across the room.

_Note: See Subject 003 for similar Semblance. Possible secondary, undesirable, hereditary Semblance contaminating Subjects 001-007. Further study suggested._

Subject 003 was classified expendable due to undesirable Semblance and transferred to Testing Site Alpha on suggestion by Doctor O'Callaghan (See **Test Log #412**), for use in testing of Subject 000. While Subject 001 is similarly compromised and of no further use in testing of Null Semblance, it is Doctor Christina Umber's opinion that the genetic traits of the "Null Semblance" may have come from the female line. Lacking access to the male body for testing due to its demise upon acquiring of Subjects 000 – 007, this is a matter as of yet unknown.

If correct, however, this promotes the possibility of Subject 001, and of Subjects 002-007 being viable as progenitors of the Null Semblance, providing further Subjects for future study. As such, Subject 001 has been anaesthetised and artificially inseminated by Doctor Christina Umber, with a view to monitoring the development of the child/children for potential development of Null Semblance.

If successful, Doctor Umber's promotes a further proposal for Subjects 002 – 007 to be similarly utilised.

**Proposal suspended until results of Test Log #442 concluded.** **Note from Snr Dr. Alcott – "Potential benefits outweigh any cost. Keep me updated of any developments and we'll see if this leads anywhere promising."**

/

**Test Log #442 Ends**

/

Blake slammed the paper down, teeth gritted so hard they grated. Those… Those monsters. Desperately, she checked the date at the top, breathing a sigh of relief to see it dated only a few days ago. That meant the test hadn't concluded, so only this woman, who had to be Jaune's mother, had to far been put through this. There was time to save the others.

Did she dare let Jaune see this, though? He deserved to, but at the same time it would hurt him so much, especially if they failed to save his mother today. Staring down at the poisonous words, she tried to make heads or tails of how anyone could do this to another person. How anything like this could be considered worth becoming abandoning all trace of morality.

Jaune had to know.

Stuffing the documents in her pocket, she picked up Gambol Shroud and made her way back outside, leaving the horrible cells to rot.

/-/

The alarm wailed.

Jaune's feet hammered down.

A soldier got in his way.

The soldier got out of his way, slumping back with a bloodstain reaching out from his stomach. Alive, wounded and quickly left behind as Jaune kept charging ahead, eyes wide and pupils narrowed to tiny pricks of black. He'd gone past his second wind and onto his third and fourth, every breath tortured and his muscles screaming in pain.

Turning the next corner, he found himself faced with six men at once, all in uniform and aiming down the corridor.

"Open fire!" the commander roared. "Defend the docks until all personnel are evacuated!"

Foot sliding on the smooth floor, Jaune kicked back and dove the way he'd come, just before sparks erupted on the opposite wall, hosing his last position with automatic fire. Once it was clear they'd missed, the gunfire stopped, the soldiers conserving ammo. They knew he was there now, however, and from the sounds of it Blake had been right, they were evacuating.

Taking his sisters with them…?

No…

He peered around again, taking stock of the distance before pulling back and dodging four quick shots. It was hard to judge but more than the fifteen metres of his Semblance – not that it would have been any use here anyway. He couldn't kill them before they did him. Patting himself down offered no solutions. Adam had given him a knife, gun and a scroll he promised was untraceable. No grenades or anything, because there was no point giving those to someone who didn't know how to use them.

"No, no, no…"

"Jaune!"

Blake skidded to a halt next to him and crouched, worry writ on her face.

"I'm not injured!" he said quickly, relief rushing through him. "I'm pinned down – they're taking everyone away! Six soldiers around the corner. Maybe twenty, twenty-five, metres."

Blake took in his rushed explanation and nodded. "Leave it to me."

Her weapon clicked into two, a long black ribbon connecting the halves of a blade and a gun. Standing, she dashed around the corner and into gunfire, except this gunfire didn't stop and the soldiers barked orders, continuing to fire. Left behind, all he could do was try not to have a mental breakdown as he counted the seconds in his head, wondering how late he might be.

Twenty in total. Twenty seconds for Blake to beat their enemy and shout "Clear!"

She hadn't fully won at the time she called that and Jaune ran around into a melee still in progress. She was among them though and they'd been forced to switch to using their guns as melee weapons lest they shoot one another. It was enough a distraction to let him run in and slam a fist into the jaw of one. The blow was so clumsy it did nothing more than knock the helmet off the man – a woman, actually. Her dark-brown hair flew back in a ponytail as she hooked an arm around Jaune's and made to snap it at the elbow.

The ribbon of Blake's weapon coiled around the woman's neck, pulling back and forcing her to wither let go or be suffocated. Blake tossed the soldier over her shoulder, unravelling the ribbon and kicking her head to knock her out. Before she'd even finished calming down, Jaune dashed past and through the final door, out into a wide open room with a huge hangar door open, several Bullheads already pulling out and away.

"NO!" he screamed.

The people that remained turned his way, several filing into two remaining aircraft. On one, a white bed on wheels was being wheeled up, but the figure in it turned his way.

"Jaune!" Amber, his youngest sister, screamed. "Jaune! Help me, Jaune! Help me!"

The scientists in white suits continued to wheel Amber up the ramp, ignoring her wild flailing and screaming, while four soldiers fanned out at the base and took aim. Their bullets ricocheted off his aura, chipping it down.

He didn't care.

A red haze had descended over him.

"AMBER!" he roared, racing forward, taking every shot without care. His own handgun spat back, plinking shots off the hull and clipping the arm of one soldier, knocking him back a bit but not downing him. "Let her go!" he screamed, racing into the gunfire. "LET HER GO!"

"Big brother! Jaunnneee!"

The ramp clunked up on hydraulic bars, closing and cutting off the sound of her screams long before he'd gotten anywhere close. With furious tears pouring down his cheeks, he kept firing, hoping that as if through some miracle, he could bring the aircraft down with a handgun.

He couldn't. The engines roared and the thing hovered, lifting off the ground and turning toward the open air and the other craft already flying away.

"The other!" Blake yelled, already racing toward the soldiers. "You can still stop the other one!"

Other…?

He hadn't paid attention with Amber awake and so close, but his head snapped to the second Bullhead in time to see another figure being wheeled up the ramp – this one still not fully inside. There was no making out who it was, but he moved, heart racing.

There was still time. He could save someone. This wouldn't be for nothing.

_I'll find you, Amber, I swear. Your brother is coming!_

But for now, he couldn't ignore someone else.

Three more soldiers on the second Bullhead moved to engage him. One of Jaune's shots went wide but hit a scientist, punching into the man's arm and dropping him. That made the gurney slide down the ramp and almost crush the person pushing it, before a soldier disengaged to help and dragged it up the rest of the way on his own, yelling for the pilots to get the engine going.

The Bullhead, still with its ramp open, began to whirr to life.

_No. Not like this. Not now!_

The soldiers hung from the pistons as the ramp began to close. Even then, it pulled off the floor, hovering and turning toward the exit. He wasn't going to make it. They were going to escape with all of them.

"Hahhhh!"

Red light shot out from the side and impacted the Bullhead, striking the large turbine on its side and shearing it off.

The aircraft lurched, suddenly unbalanced and swerving dangerously to the side. The pilot's attempts to correct it in a confined space weren't enough and the hull grated down the length of the wall, crashing down and skidding over the ground with bright sparks. Two of the soldiers were jettisoned out, landing poorly and trying to roll to safety.

Adam was already rushing in from another doorway, Wilt drawn and mask stained with blood. "Now, Jaune!" he shouted. "Before they cut their losses!"

Jaune was at the ramp before the Bullhead had even come to a stop. He jumped up, crying out as his hand touched metal suddenly burning hot from being dragged across concrete. Ignoring it, he hauled himself inside, taking in the tight space and the bed crashed against the side, still somehow upright and with a huddled figure curled up on it, blonde hair peeking out from the white sheet.

One scientist and one soldier were inside, the scientist on his back and unable to even stand, but the soldier reacting far quicker, his rifle knocked out his hands but a sidearm being drawn.

Jaune's eyes flashed a medley of colours.

His gun snapped in his hands.

The first shot hit the man's chest. The second hit his neck. The third missed, impacting off the metal hull as the recoil combined with the fact the Bullhead was still scraping and moving along the wall, pushed his aim off. It mattered little and the man slumped with a sigh, head dropping forward on his chest.

"I surrender!" the scientist wailed. "I surrender!"

The pilot didn't. Vehicle still crashing, he unbuckled and reached around from the central cockpit, gun in hand. Jaune made to shoot but the man threw his weapon away and raised his hands silently. Gasping for breath and with adrenaline still racing through him, Jaune wondered if he was supposed to accept that or not.

Thankfully, Blake wrenched the pilot's door open and dragged him bodily out before he could think about it. Adam was also at the ramp, pulling it open and shouting for anyone inside to get down or be killed. The scientist was flat on his front, sobbing like a child with both hands above his head.

Jaune was already at the bed, one hand steadying it as he wrenched the covers back, afraid of what he might see – and then almost crying in relief.

Tired blue eyes peeked up at him from a narrow face. Pale, shaking, but unmistakably alive, Coral Arc peered up at him through shattered glasses. Her cracked lips moved, whispering, "Am I dreaming? P-Please don't let me wake up."

The tears poured forth. Collapsing against her medical bed, he took her hand and clasped it between his, holding it against his face. Whether that was proof enough for her, he didn't know, but it was for him. He'd saved one. Coral was alive. Even if the others were taken away, he'd saved one.

Adam's methods worked.

/-/

"General Ironwood! General Ironwood!" Marrow burst through the door and came to a halt, detained by the two guards who struggled to prevent his entry. They trusted him enough to only use their hands, but even then they were dragged in with him. "General Ironwood!"

"Specialist Marrow?" Ironwood frowned, already making to stand. "Repo-"

"Unidentified aircraft on the southern tip of Atlas. They're leaving Atlas airspace, registering Atlas vehicles but refusing to answer any hails. They're flying out of Atlas – away from some location our systems picked them up on."

"Bring them down!"

"Winter is in pursuit, sir. I – I came as quickly as I could."

Winter? Thank goodness. Ironwood rushed past the exhausted Specialist – he'd praise him later for this, but right now there were bigger things to do. Marrow was left behind to recover his breath as Ironwood's personal guards hurried after him. No one dared get in his way, officers and students stepping back to let him pass.

Unidentified aircraft _could_ have been anything, even something as simple as a civilian vehicle failing to follow proper procedure but given the absolute mess that had been going on lately, he didn't believe that for a second. Bursting into the command room, he ignored the salutes and approached Clover, who was leaning over a display with a grave expression.

"What is Winter's position?" Ironwood asked immediately.

"Here." Clover touched a blip on the map. It was moving slowly, though slow on the map meant intense speeds in the field. He slid his finger along, tracking what seemed to be six aircraft, each registering as a typical Atlas bullhead. "They first appeared on our systems somewhere around here," Clover remarked. "Winter moved instantly, telling us to alert you while she intercepted. As expected, they're not answering or acknowledging our attempts to hail them. We have no registered presence in this region, let alone military aircraft."

"It's them. They're relocating." Ironwood scowled. "Why? Are they retreating from something? Clover, I want you and your team out searching that region as soon as this is over. Take however many teams you need, but the less the better. Should anyone from Atlas attempt to accost you, warn them once you are acting on my orders and, if they should persist, react with force."

"You think the White Fang found our targets?"

"I think it's possible. They blew up the last facility but there's nothing to suggest there wasn't the location of this one hidden within it. Once the area is secure, I'll be visiting myself to get to the bottom of this."

"We could have Winter land and try to secure Jaune Arc," Harriet said.

"No. That's too dangerous and we've no specific idea where he is." They knew roughly where the Bullheads originated from, but only that. It would take boots on the ground and time to isolate the exact location, and by that point the White Fang would be gone. "Even if Winter should happen to find them in that region, he could kill her with his Semblance. Better she intercept-"

"They're splitting, sir!" Vine warned.

Ironwood swore, watching as the six blips cut off in different directions, fanning out to prevent Winter being able to engage each. Worse, they didn't keep going in vaguely similar directions either. Three turned in the direction of Vale, one toward Vacuo, two for Mistral and one looked to be angling along the coast of Atlas, perhaps looking for another facility on the island.

How many bases did these people have? Was it an international organisation? His fists shook as he watched Winter's marker head toward the point of divergence and then pursue the one toward Vacuo. He nodded, pleased with the decision. Atlas had an alliance with Vale, so Vale could be called upon to intercept, while the one in Atlas was still on radar and thus trackable.

"Send out a team to pursue the one in Atlas. Vine, contact Vale and alert them to the situation – tell them they are to intercept and arrest, and then return the captives to myself and myself only. Elm, tell the diplomatic team to request access to Mistral airspace."

Vacuo would be upset if they impeded without a request, but the Kingdom was too fractured and disjointed to make a big deal of it, and as long as the threat was confined to desert wasteland, they likely wouldn't bring it up. The real problem was Mistral, lacking an alliance with them and with how proud and egotistical they could be.

"Sir, Winter is closing. Orders?"

"Intercept and bring it down in one piece. If needs be, shadow it until it lands on its own. Under no circumstances is she to open fire or destroy the vehicle. If what I think is on board dies, then we'll have made a dangerous enemy." Pushing off the monitor, he turned away. "Contact me once Winter has our enemies in custody. Prep reinforcements for her."

"And you, sir?" Clover asked.

"I'm going to call Ozpin. He'll be faster to move than any response team from Vale."

/-/

"Jauuuunnnne!" the girl screamed. "Jaunnnnneeeee!"

"Muzzle her, damn it!" the co-pilot yelled back. The sound of movement from the hold suggested someone had done just that, reducing the high-pitched screaming to frightened mumbling and sobbing. It was still enough to have them on edge, but not half as much as the attack.

"Do not harm the Subject!" one of the eggheads protested. "She is valuable."

"Sit down, sir." A soldier pushed the scientist back into a seat. "We are here for your safety. Allow us to do our work."

Sit down and shut the fuck up, basically. The co-pilot snorted, wishing the guy could have just said that. The eggheads were creepy fucks at the best of times, more so because of their constant mumbling about value, worth and research. His fingers nervously drummed on the dials, feet tapping on the floor.

This wasn't what he enlisted for. All those promotional videos talking about how fucking sweet life in the army goaded him on, and it hadn't been bad. The training was good, the pay fair, but when the promise of more pay came? Well, what was he to say? Property prices weren't dropping and he wanted to have a place to call his own.

_Should have told that creep to shove his NDA's up his nose. Knew this was a bad call._

The radio in his helmet came to life in a burst of static.

"_Charlie-4. Pursuit has broken off and is closing on Charlie-5. Repeat, Pursuit is closing on Charlie-5."_

Thank fuck. Harsh as it was to think it, he was grateful the brass had gone after another group and let them escape. Even if it meant people he'd eaten, slept and made friends with might be arrested or even killed.

"Mmmmmh!" the girl continued to wail, bucking against her bindings. "Jnnnnn!"

"Not long," the pilot beside him whispered. "Back to base in Vale. Warm bed, debrief and a meal. We're home clear. Vale doesn't even have an army. It'll take them hours to mobilise huntsmen, and by that point we'll be long gone."

It was said more to calm himself than anyone else, but the co-pilot nodded along. "Yeah. Lucky us, eh? I can't wait to have a stiff drink to work this off."

"You paying?" the pilot asked nervously.

"You know what, fuck it, sure. Drinks are on me-"

The Bullhead shook violently. His heart lurched but a quick view at the scanner told him no one was behind. The whole thing was dark. And then it flickered to life again, and then it went dark. Everything did.

"We're losing altitude," the pilot whispered. "What the fuck?"

"Controls are flickering on and off," the co-pilot reported, pressing buttons. "Are we low on dust? Please fucking tell me the engineers didn't forget to refuel." It was a hysterical thought and a check of the dial proved it false. "Our tank is full. All readings – those I can see – are normal."

"Well we're losing altitude!" the pilot yelled. "That's not normal!"

"Jnnnnnnnnnn!"

"Awakening!" an egghead cried. "She's panicked and awakened her Semblance! Quickly, someone document this!"

"Not the fucking time!" he yelled back.

"Is it Null?" another of the bastards asked, stumbling over to the girl's bed. "It is! I can see her eyes! They show the colours. No. It's… It's different. I can still feel my aura. But the eyes, they look so similar. It's not turning off aura or Semblances."

In the cockpit, the co-pilot swore and unlatched his buckle, climbing over the divide and into the back while the pilot struggled to bring them into a glide. They were just reaching Vale, crossing the ocean and approaching forested land. Angrily, he took one of the eggheads and hauled them out the way, sending him crashing into the wall.

"What are you doing!?" the remaining scientist panicked as the co-pilot drew his sidearm. "No! You cannot! Her Semblance is what we're looking for. Kill her and you undo all our research. I won't allow you to-"

Allow? He backhanded the idiot aside, knocking him to the floor as he flicked off the safety and aimed his gun at the girl's terrified face. "You're doing this!" he hissed. "You're fucking with the Bullhead. Stop it. Stop it now!"

Gold. Yellow. Green. Blue. Red. The colours swirled in her irises, so wide and afraid as she looked down the barrel of a gun. He might have felt a flicker of pity but mind-numbing terror eclipsed it. When she didn't instantly do as commanded, he pulled the trigger.

_Click_.

His hands shook.

_Click. Click. Click._

It wasn't unloaded. It couldn't be. Throwing it aside, he wrenched the assault rifle from the nearest soldier out his hands and aimed it at the girl, squeezing down to nothing but a _click_ and a lack of any gunfire. Shaking, he drew out the magazine, looking down at all the cartridges sat happily in their wells. One slid from the end of the gun's barrel. The back of the bullet had shattered, but it hadn't ignited. Dust dribbled out onto the floor.

"It nullifies dust!" the still-conscious egghead whispered in awe. "Not aura and semblance, but dust. All dust! Fuel, energy, ammunition, e–everything. Incredible. This is incredible, perhaps even more amazing than Null itself."

Amazing, but currently crashing their Bullhead. The co-pilot reached for his combat knife. That at least was cold steel. The second he did, however, a shout of warning came from the cockpit and the Bullhead rocked and shook, striking treetops and bursting through with a furious rattle.

He was launched off his feet, slammed into the ceiling and then the floor. One of the scientists suffered the same, impacting a wall with a sickening crack and falling limp, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Something _heavy_ hit the cockpit. Glass shattered. He heard his best friend's final scream before they came to a sudden halt, the co-pilot sent flying backwards and into a wall.

Darkness swept in the moment he struck, robbing him of consciousness.

He didn't hear the Grimm that approached, nor the sound of a weapon cutting those Grimm down.

"Well..." the figure said, watching from the dark. "This is interesting..."

* * *

**To make it clear, what Amber has is obviously very different to Null. Jaune doesn't affect dust or electronics (since as far as we can tell electronics run on dust). I think all appliances and stuff in RWBY runs on dust. It's their primary energy source from what I remember, replacing oil, gunpowder and other things of that nature. Hence why the bullet wouldn't fire. The primer relies on dust, while the "propellant" would also presumably be dust. **

**I could be wrong on that, but it's how I figure it comparing bullets in the real world and dust. While we could just assume Remnant has gunpowder as well, I don't know if they do. It's always kind of implied dust handles everything there.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 9****th**** March**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	6. Chapter 6

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing **_**my**_** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

General Ironwood stepped down out of his personal carrier and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and clean, a welcome relief so far from the city, had he the opportunity to truly enjoy it. Such thoughts dwindled as six soldiers fanned out either side of him, securing the perimeter and the Bullhead's landing zone. As a General, he usually travelled by Class-A Battleship, but such would have raised panic. Or drawn unwelcome attention.

On a cursory glance, there was little to denote their current location as that of a secret facility. In the end it was Marrow who gave it away, stood beside Harriet but with one hand on what Ironwood realised was an unusually flat piece of rock. He might have missed it at any other time.

"Specialists." He nodded to Marrow and Harriet, approaching and leaving his entourage behind. They had their orders, and the very real possibility of an attack. This would be a prime opportunity for this shadowy group to cut their investigation off.

They'd be in for a nasty surprise if they tried.

"General." Marrow and Harriet saluted.

"At ease. This is the facility, I assume."

"Yes sir." Harriet turned and opened the door while Marrow continued speaking. "It took us a while to find it – in the end it was a dead body that clued us in. The site has been fully cleared."

"No explosives this time?"

"None, sir. The White Fang left everything intact."

Curious. He didn't for a moment think the Ace-Ops wouldn't have done the necessary scans for bombs still laying in wait, so that meant the White Fang had chosen to leave it up. Why? The two thoughts that came to mind was the most obvious, that they lacked munitions, but one a little more dangerous, that they wanted him to see this. A test of his reactions. Of Atlas' reaction. One that Ironwood knew they could only fail.

No matter what he wanted, Atlas would bury this. The justice of one family could not outweigh the cost of so many lives imperilled by releasing the knowledge. That was the excuse that would be given anyway, and he lacked the strength to force a different conclusion.

_This is going to turn Arc against us…_ Ironwood sighed. _Not that I can blame him._

"Give me the tour, Marrow. Harriet, stay out here and look after my men. Radio immediately if any unidentified craft appear. Assume hostile."

Harriet saluted. "Sir."

Ironwood kept his eyes narrowed as he marched through the facility behind Marrow. He took note of the high quality of it and the assumed cost, of the hygiene standards being far beyond that of what one would assume of a `rogue` operation. The fallen soldiers had modern and current Atlas equipment. The offices were named. It was difficult to resist the urge to rummage but Clover would have a full report waiting.

They came upon a crossroads and Marrow swallowed. There were bodies everywhere, blood splashed upon the walls in patterns denoting a long, bladed weapon, likely a sword. _Not Arc's work,_ he thought. The boy didn't have the necessary training. _Likely Taurus proving his worth. _

Their first destination was following the bodies to a docking area. It was cut into the side of a mountain with the massive hangar doors closed. A crashed Bullhead lay a tight wreck by one wall, while a few more bodies dotted the landing zones where others might once have stood.

"The doors were open when we arrived but Clover wanted them closed. There was a risk those behind this might try and re-take the base so Vine sabotaged the computer. It can't be opened remotely now, at least not from the outside."

"Very good." They could station a team here to open the doors for reinforcements but he was loathe to commit to that. This place was useless to them and manning it would both put those here in danger while also exposing them to secrets they might not be trustworthy with.

_The list of those I can trust is small. I can't afford to dilute my forces._ Sadly enough, even if the White Fang had seen fit to leave this place standing, their best choice might be to bury it. This facility would burn, but only after they took from it all they could.

"Is there a central control room?"

"Not as such, sir. It's more research than military so they have conference rooms and offices. Clover found a data centre, though. He wants you to see it."

"Take me there."

The data centre proved to be just that – a large underground storage room cooled to allow for numerous servers which, to Ironwood's surprise, were still in operation. "The White Fang didn't strike here?"

Clover looked up from where he'd been working on a laptop. Vine was on another, plugged directly into one of the towering servers. Putting his down, Clover stood and saluted. Ironwood waved him down quickly and repeated the question.

"It doesn't look like it, sir. They must have been in a rush – or they were happy with what they took. Vine is searching for security footage and we may be able to trace their attack. I've been going through stored logs, basically downloading everything I can. There's not as much in here as you'd think."

"How so?"

It was Vine who answered, absentmindedly slapping a hand on one of the towers. "This hardware suggests a need for vast amounts of processing power and memory, and yet there is barely enough to fill three laptops. Given the fact this room is cooled and specially maintained for servers and the cost involved, the inefficiency is… suspicious."

It was well said. Ironwood didn't waste time contemplating when Zeki obviously had a hypothesis of his own. "Your thoughts, Specialist?"

"This facility is new and purpose built for the Arc family. It is not an existing one used for anything before it. More than that, they expected the research to be long-term to say the least. They could have continued at the current rate of data acquisition for forty years and now filled these servers, and that's assuming all data be backed up."

They were in this for the long haul. That thought was worrying, but not quite as much as the cost involved in all of this. Not only in the hardware, but the men to run it, the expense of hiding all of that from his eyes and somehow constructing this in territory considered unclaimed. And all of that in the time since the boy's Semblance was discovered and the attack that claimed his family. A period of at best two months.

Even _he_ couldn't convince construction teams to get a build completed that quickly, and he was a General of Atlas. How much money did these people have to throw around? _And why keep their primary subject at an alternate site? _

Afraid of an escape attempt, of the Semblance interfering with testing or… some other reason.

"What have you found so far?" Ironwood asked.

Clover and Vine exchanged glances. It was a worrying hesitation for what would normally have warranted an immediate answer. "Nothing good, sir. These tests… They've been trying to provoke the victims into unlocking their Semblances."

"Provoke…?"

"There are many theories on how Semblances unlock, as you no doubt know," Vine explained. "One prevailing theory is that Semblances unlock under conditions of high stress, often in answer to a life-threatening situation, and sometimes – but not always – unlocking in a manner that helps us survive that situation."

It was a common theory. It didn't work for everyone, the Schnee's hereditary Semblance as an example, but then there were more than enough case studies of soldiers and Huntsmen unlocking very niche Semblances which _just so happened_ to save their lives. Some of those had been problems so specific and the Semblance unlocked so bizarre, that coincidence no longer served as a viable explanation. It wasn't a certain thing, however. Nothing in life was.

"I've heard the theories."

"Then you may have heard of some idiots trying to `custom choose` their Semblances by placing themselves in specific danger." Vine's scorn made it clear his thoughts on that. "It seems they did the same here…"

His breath caught. "They tortured them…?"

"Yes. Torture is an apt way to describe some of the things I've read. In fact, it may be the best. It's said there is a unique skill to torture, General. That a torturer needs to straddle the line between life and death, for if the victim ever chooses or believes death a better option, they will fade away. A good torturer, they say, must forever dangle hope before the victim but never grant it."

Vine closed his laptop and sighed angrily. It was perhaps the most upset Ironwood had ever seen the normally calm man.

"These people were very good at what they did."

"And the victims?" Ironwood asked, already feeling sick. War was one thing, death was another, but even in the darkest depths of `enhanced interrogation`, torture was forbidden. "Are they all still alive at least?"

"As of these records, yes. The people here were very careful to ensure the harm never threatened the individual's life. Given the Semblance they were trying to bring forth, they employed other people with Semblances that could cause intense pain or mental distress. I caught a glimpse of a report detailing a Semblance capable of influencing dreams, and the traumatic things they forced a young woman to experience." His hand tightened into a fist. "I wish I had not."

"We will find them, Zeki. They _will_ face justice."

"If you will forgive my manners, General, I find myself wondering if they will. Everything about this suggests resources and influence within Atlas itself. Who can say how deep this goes…?"

"That's something we'll discover. Clover, where is Elm?"

"Conducting a final scan for prisoners, sir. It's possible some hid away from the White Fang and evaded detection. Though, I've not heard anything yet…"

It was likely hopeless, then. Knowing that they'd come, anyone who managed to stay hidden would have fled by now. If not them to arrest them, the only others would have been those responsible – who would likely kill any witnesses and burn this place down to hide the evidence. If you were willing to torture civilians, why stop at killing your own people?

"Call her back. We'll be planting demolitions and leaving. I want us back in Atlas when Winter returns. If she's bringing prisoners – or better yet one of the victims – I want a wall of bodies between them and any potential traitors."

"You think they'd try to assassinate a possible witness?"

"At this point I'm not prepared to rule anything out."

/-/

The faunus medic removed his plastic gloves and tossed them aside, stepping away from Coral's bed. He didn't make it two paces before Jaune was there, eyes wide and body shaking. Jaune made to speak but the faunus cut him off.

"She is fine. Malnourished, dehydrated and suffering mild bruises, but alive and well. I'd say to ensure she gets plenty of bed rest, but I doubt she'll be able to stand for at least a day as it is. Don't overfeed her. You'll do more harm than good."

"T-Thank you, Fitch. I mean that."

"It's fine." Fitch, Adam's medic, pushed some hair away from his face, revealing the large black colouration around his eyes. A panda faunus. He had huge muscles that belied his medical training. The mask and uniform didn't help, but he did have a white armband with a red cross on, symbolising his role at a glance. "I gave her some minor painkillers. She's sleeping now. As much as you might want to, I'll have to ask you not wake her."

"I – Yes. Of course." It was a tall request but he was too scared of making things worse to even consider going against it. He lowered his voice. "Will she stay here?"

"For tonight, yes. You're welcome to sleep in here as well if you like. Might help her relax when she wakes up – she'll surely be delirious for a moment and may think herself back in that accursed facility. I have a spared bed you can use."

"I'll do that. You can take my tent."

Fitch nodded to that and ushered Jaune out, telling him he'd call if Coral showed any signs of wakefulness.

Jaune's legs felt like jelly when he got out. He'd been running on adrenaline ever since the raid and it faded a lot more slowly than he thought it would. A few of the White Fang he'd spoken to told him it was after-fight jitters, common for your first real taste. He'd argued he'd been involved in the last raid, but they assured him it wasn't the same. This was his _real_ first time in a life or death against real people and with everything to lose.

His heart was aching – and not from pain over his sisters or anything of that sort. It was just beating so hard and had been for a while that it kept stinging. He wasn't sure if he was on the verge of a heart attack.

And despite all that, despite all those horrible things, he felt like dropping flat on the ground and laughing at the top of his voice. Loud, screaming laughter that would reach Atlas. Maniacal laughter. Wild, reckless and stupid laughter.

A warm flask was pushed into his hands. Blake's face appeared before his. "Drink this."

"Huh?"

"It's soup. Tomato and basil. Nothing too special, but you need to eat."

"I'm not-"

"You don't _feel_ hungry but you are. Given what we just went through, your body can't be anything but." She took him by his elbow and drew him to a patch of grass. "Come on. Sit down before you fall down."

He did as she said, realising that she had a point. He still didn't feel hungry but it was hours since the raid and he _should_ have been starving. He probably was, but he couldn't feel it. Unscrewing the cap, he poured some soup into the reversed lid, using it as a cup. He sniffed at it and took a sip, then drank some more when his body didn't rebel against it. Heat spread through him, relaxing tense muscles.

"Thanks," he whispered. "I think I needed that…"

"Happens to everyone after a close mission. It has to me enough times." Blake smiled faintly. Her smiles had been just that of late, small and fragile. He'd thought once or twice of asking why but didn't know if it would be appreciated.

_If she needs help, she'll talk to Adam. I'm sure it's fine._

Finishing another full mug, he screwed the cap back on and offered the thermos back. "Keep it," she said. "Your sister might want some when she's awake. Coral, isn't it? I'm sure that was the name you mentioned."

"Yeah. This – or that," he said, nodding back to the medical tent, "Is Coral."

"And the other, the one we couldn't reach…?"

"Amber. The youngest." His hands clenched into fists. "She was so frightened…"

Blake's hand settled over his, gently unwinding his hand before he could hurt himself. "She knows you're looking for her now. That was something she had no idea of before. Even if you couldn't save her, you've given her hope."

Hope…? That was something worth believing. He nodded. Amber had no reason to believe anyone was going to save her before, but she now knew he was free. That was better than nothing. Hopefully, she'd keep that close to her heart until he could rescue her.

"Jaune." Adam stepped up with a crunch of grass. He paused for a second on seeing Blake, but quickly nodded her way. "And Blake. We've just finished interrogating the prisoners and deciding on our next course of action."

"And that is?" Jaune asked.

"And the fate of said prisoners?" Blake asked.

Jaune shot her a look but she ignored it, staring directly at Adam.

"What do you want of me, Blake? They're dangerous. Would you have me set them free in the middle of nowhere? That's as good as killing them. Deliver them to Atlas? That would get _us_ killed."

"We could drop them off at a nearby village…"

"Would that there were any nearby, I might consider it. There aren't. We're in the wildlands of Atlas. There's a reason they chose to set their hidden facility here, and it wasn't because it's a short walk to the nearest supermarket."

"You've already killed them, haven't you?"

"No, actually." Adam crossed his arms. "But thank you for the vote of confidence."

"Let them go. Give the pilot a weapon."

"And if he shoots us with it?"

"He won't," she insisted. "He'd be an idiot to. We're not killers, Adam. We shouldn't execute prisoners or what do you think Atlas will do if they take some of our people prisoner?"

"The same thing they already do," Adam replied, touching a finger to where his eye was behind the mask. Blake flinched but held her ground. "And what of the researcher, Blake? What do you think happens when he goes free? Do you want to be responsible for that person going back and conducting more tests on Jaune's siblings?"

"What? No, I-"

"You what?" Adam pressed. "You think he'll go home, renounce his ways and open up a bakery serving treats to small orphans? _Junior Doctor Clementine_ is under the employ of those responsible for all of this." He put a strange focus on the name. "As you well know."

Blake had been tense before, but now she went ramrod still, eyes wide. Jaune had been silent up until that point, but her reaction stirred him to speak.

"What does he mean? Do you recognise that name?"

"I… It's…"

"He deserves to know," Adam said. "It's his family."

Blake reluctantly produced a small, folded set of papers from her pocket and held them out. Jaune took them with a shaking hand and unfolded them, then read through in silence. By the time he was done his fingers were gripping the edges so tight the paper began to rip. Stains blotted it from his angry tears.

"I wanted to wait until you calmed down before showing you," Blake whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's not Blake's fault," Adam said. "But it _is_ the fault of the man we have prisoner. I took the liberty of asking for you. Your mother went through one treatment of this and they weren't yet sure it worked. There's a good chance it wouldn't have taken, but I can't say they won't try again wherever they have her."

"Killing him won't solve anything!"

"Killing him will make sure he can't harm anyone again."

"It's not right!"

"Nothing to do with these people is right, Blake. We work with what we're given. In the end it should be Jaune who decides. It's his family that has suffered."

He'd known it was coming but he still shrunk when their eyes turned on him, Adam's calm and flat but Blake's almost pleading. The paper had become scrunched in his fist, bits sticking out detailing the horrible things they'd done to his mother. How could she look at him at a time like this and expect him to defend this person? How?

"Jaune, don't," she whispered. "Killing them won't change the fact this happened."

It wouldn't, but what would change if he let them go? He only had the one example of what this man did, but there was a good chance he'd done far worse to the others. Every ounce of him was screaming for blood.

Except for a quiet, weak voice in his head saying it was wrong.

Wrong? Wrong? Everything was wrong here. On that, Adam was right. What was wrong was that he had to join a bunch of terrorists to make a difference, and that they'd delivered in such a little time, already freeing Coral and sending their captors fleeing. Meanwhile, Atlas hadn't done a thing other than pick up Saphron and label him a psychopath.

"Jaune," Blake said.

"Stop!" He spat it out, startling her. "Just. Just stop. I can't think with you looking at me like that!" Ignoring her hurt expression, he turned to Adam. "What did you find out from them? What did they say?"

Unlike Blake, Adam remained calm and swiftly answered. "The pilot was co-operative and answered as much as he could. He's relatively new, shipped here two weeks ago on the promise of higher pay. He claims to have been told this was to research a cure for a disease, with your family being carriers of some kind of antibodies." He shrugged. "It's a weak excuse, but easy enough to believe for someone with more faith in the system than common sense. Today was the first time he saw your sisters in person."

"He also said the Bullheads were instructed to travel to four new locations. Vacuo, Vale and Mistral, with one heading to a new outpost along the coast. Theirs was to go to Vacuo before we shot it down."

"Does he know who was on each?"

"No. He wasn't made aware who would be on his, let alone the others. He _was_ able to provide the rough location of the Mistral facility, however. He says it's the only one he remembers as they were given in order and the Vacuo one was punched into the system. The one in Mistral is in the middle of a forest halfway between the city of Mistral and the west coast. I'm afraid we don't have any leads on Vale or Vacuo's bases."

Damn it. That was better than nothing, though. It was a direction. If they went to Mistral, they could maybe find the location of the others. "C-Can we go there?"

"I was planning on it anyway," Adam said. "Atlas is about to become too hot for us to stay, and we've already completed our mission here in freeing the SDC mining camp. Sienna wants us to work on dust shipments between Mistral and Vale." He nodded to Jaune. "I don't see why we can't kill two birds with one stone."

"Thank you. I'll help with the dust shipments. I promise. What about the scientist? Did he reveal anything?"

"Less." Adam sighed and shook his head. "He ranted, raved and rambled. Idiot is almost driven mad with panic and has spent more time trying to convince us to let him go than listening to what we want. He's pleading innocence from everything, saying he was forced into this, intimidated and that he never took part, that he always did his best to help the patients and look after them. Claims he was medical more than research."

"He might have been!" Blake hissed. "We don't know for sure."

She was only saying that because she didn't want them killed. Jaune wanted to ask why, then realised the answer was obvious. Because it was wrong. Because a _normal person_ wouldn't want to up and kill someone like that.

_I'm the one that's abnormal,_ he thought. _Blake is just trying to keep some sense of morality._

Nicholas always talked about how being a huntsman meant making difficult choices. Who to save, who to leave behind and who couldn't be saved even if you tried. Those decisions were never easy, he'd often say, but someone had to make them.

Now, it was his turn.

"Jaune," Blake begged.

"Let the pilot live." It burned to say it and burned even more when instead of showing relief, Blake only looked more upset. "I won't forgive him but there's no point killing him and he did co-operate. As for the researcher…" Blake was already looking at him like she'd lost all hope. "I want Coral to see him."

Blake tensed. Adam raised a single eyebrow.

"If he claims to be innocent then I want Coral to have a look. If he really did try his best to help them, she should know."

"Very well." Adam uncrossed his arms and adjusted his mask. "I'll inform the others and let the pilot know the good news. That might even spark the researcher into co-operating a little more. As for moving orders, we'll camp here tonight to let your sister recover, then make for the coast in the morning. Our transport will be smuggling us as cargo over to Mistral, where we'll disappear into the forests and meet up with another team to be resupplied. They'll be the ones to take your sister to Menagerie."

"Will they look after her?"

"If they know what's good for them. They're loyal to me and I'll be making it clear how important her safe arrival is." Adam paused in turning away to add, "I trust that is to your liking, Blake? Or was there anything you wanted to add?"

Blake shook her head and Adam walked away. Blake looked upset still, despite that no one was being killed. It annoyed him more than he cared to admit, but he pushed that away, reminding himself she was a friend.

"Is everything okay?"

"Nothing is okay," she mumbled, standing. "They're your enemies, Jaune, I get that, but keep in mind they're still people. Their biggest evil is in seeing your family as less than human, as lives that don't matter." Her eyes pierced his. "Make sure you don't become the same. Killing is easy. It's stopping that's hard, especially once you realise how convenient a solution it really is…" Shaking her head, she stepped away, and though she whispered under her breath, he still heard her. "We used to take and release prisoners. Whatever happened to that?"

He had a feeling he knew the answer, even as she walked away. Releasing prisoners ceased being convenient, and soon became more trouble than it was worth. Jaune sighed, hooked his hands around his knees and sat under the moonlight, waiting for Coral to wake.

How far was too far? Was there a point at which he was supposed to stop? If so, didn't that mean there was an argument to just _leave_ his sisters to their horrible fate? If one argued that killing was wrong, and that it might cost a hundred lives to save them, then they could also argue it was better not to try at all. Just leave them. Write them off.

Was that what Blake meant? Was that what she wanted? If all it took for evil to exist was for good people to do nothing, but by doing something he became evil himself, then where did that lead? All those pithy sayings just ended up contradicting one another and ending up in some sanctimonious mess.

At the end of the day, the choices were simple.

Let his family be put through continued torture until they eventually died or were turned into breeding factories so _more_ children could be put through the same - or kill. Fight it and those responsible, which would require more and more death, but the deaths of those not close to him, as horrible as that sounded. Justice didn't really come into it anymore. Not when both he and the ones behind it were ignoring the law.

And laws were just something decided by the strong, Adam had said, followed only by those who didn't have the strength, influence or power to ignore them. Those that did could do so at will, acting like unaccountable monsters.

"Don't think about it," he told himself. "Just save them. That's all that matters."

/-/

Wind whipped at the tail of Ironwood's coat, dragging it forward as Atlas' banners streamed above. The landing zone was contained and monitored, with the Ace-Ops at each corner, weapons at the ready. Ten men guarded the door while two Bullheads stood ready to intercept anyone and anything that might impede them. He'd been forced to call upon everyone he thought he could trust and realising how depressingly small that number was grated his already frayed nerves.

"Winter is hailing us, sir," Clover said.

"Patch her through. Is Saphron accounted for?"

"Under guard. She wanted to be here naturally, but I managed to convince her that would only place everyone in danger."

"Good." He took the radio Clover offered. "Winter. Report."

"_I'm approaching Atlas airspace, sir. Package secured. Two prisoners."_

He stamped down on the sudden rush, forcing professionalism to the fore. They weren't out of the water yet. "Roger that. You are clear to land on AV-4. Your path has been cleared. Be aware, there is a large escort on the platform."

"_Understood. Sir, I'm being pinged by control…"_

"You shouldn't be." Ironwood waved to Clover, who instantly pulled out his scroll to solve the issue. "Send your ID codes but refrain from revealing anything about the mission."

"_Yes sir."_

Winter went silent, no doubt complying with control's demands. It was normal for any aircraft entering their space to be challenged in such a manner, but Winter's aircraft was recognisable. There was simply no way they didn't know it was her, but at the same time it was arguably safer for control to request clarification anyway.

Except that he'd already sent information of Winter's approach ahead of time.

"_Sir."_ The radio came back to life. _"Control registers and has instructed me to land at platform six. Escort awaiting."_

"Ignore that order, Specialist. Continue to AV-4." Ironwood pulled the radio away and barked out, "Platform six. Lock it down. Demand surrender of _anyone_ present and await further instructions." He watched the ten men at the door salute and rush away. They wouldn't be enough to win a firefight, but there was almost no risk of that here.

At best, they'd be looking at confusion as two groups of soldiers tried to figure out whose orders to follow and eventually made the obvious decision, to follow none and seek further instruction rather than risk an altercation between their own. That delay would give him time to get down there and take control of the situation personally.

_Sabotage, accident or diversion. It could be any…_

"Clover. What of Control?"

"They're saying they didn't receive your instructions, sir, but have accepted my word on that and approved Winter's flight path. All systems are down and she is safe to approach."

"_Are_ the systems down? I would hate for there to be a mysterious misfire…"

"Control says weapon systems are fully locked down, sir. They would need your direct approval to open them again."

Good. Someone was doing their job properly. He radioed for Winter to finish her approach and watched as her elegant craft swept in over the city. His muscles tensed then, expecting the worst, but as it came closer and closer, eventually turning sideways to land, he allowed himself a moment of hope. Only when the aircraft touched down fully did he acknowledge it.

The Ace-Ops rushed the door and cockpit. Clover confirmed Winter's presence as the pilot – unnecessary, but better safe than sorry – and she climbed out with his aid. The cargo bay was then brought open and two of Winter's own exited, flanking four figures with hands cuffed behind their backs. They were smudged with soot and dirt, likely from an explosion.

Harriet and Elm rounded them up and forced them to kneel, then checked and reapplied their cuffs. They didn't take them away and Ironwood regarded them with a quick nod. Any second they were out his sight was a second for them to disappear under mysterious circumstances. No more games. No more chances.

Winter waited by the ramp and Ironwood approached, feeling a surge of pride as she removed her helmet, white hair falling down her back, and then saluted him.

"At ease, Specialist. You have exceeded all expectations today."

"Just doing my job, sir."

Modest to a fault. He'd heard someone say modesty could sound arrogant if applied too frequently, but she always managed to avoid that. "Accept praise where it's given, Winter. You managed to race down and apprehend a fleeing aircraft while avoiding a diplomatic incident. Report, but quickly."

"Sir. I made contact with the quarry over the waters near Vacuo's northern coast and hailed them. Repeated tries were met with silence. Warning shots went ignored. Over a stretch of flat land, I was able to fly low above them and force them to choose between descending or an impact. Once they were close to the ground, I disabled their engines and forced a rough landing."

"Resistance?"

"They opened fire. Six dead, all soldiers. I have their bodies in the hold. The target was unharmed."

"Well done. We'll get to identifying those who shot on you and following the trail as best we can, but I don't expect anything." The ones behind this would have cut ties by now and had _hours_ to erase everything. "And the subject?"

"Sedated, sir. I… I had to do that myself. We were wearing Atlas-standard armour when we found her and she didn't react well to it. Nor the injection," she admitted, ashamed not by her actions but because she knew what mental upset that must have caused the victim.

To see another Atlas soldier with an injection. Ironwood closed his eyes, fighting back the revulsion. That their own would do this. He'd have said he was surprised, but by now he was simply disappointed.

"Let me see her."

Winter brought him up into the Bullhead's interior. A bed lay inside, carefully strapped into a stable position. On it lay a small figure huddled beneath a blanket. It was impossible to tell who she was at a glance but he was sure Saphron could perform an identification. Keeping her away would be both impossible and needlessly cruel.

The girl was tied to the bed by thick leather bands about her wrists and ankles. Touching one, he peeled the leather away to see splotches of blue and red skin beneath. Her arms were dotted with red marks and the odd scar. Even asleep, she looked troubled, with heavy bags beneath her eyes and a sunken appearance.

"They have kept her alive, but not healthy. We shall have to fix that…"

"Sir, she's going to be at risk here."

"I'm aware. We'll be placing her under the strictest guard-"

Gunfire barked from outside.

Ironwood threw himself in front of the girl protectively but none of the shots came inwards. Someone shouted out angrily and more gunfire erupted, a sudden and brief firefight taking place on the platform. Winter was already surging out, sabre drawn.

By the time he felt it safe enough to leave the civilian, it was too late.

The four prisoners lay face down, on their backs or on their sides, each and every one of them dead in an expanding pool of blood. Twenty-five metres away, an Atlesian soldier also lay crumpled on the floor, while another was gripping his leg and being helped up by Marrow. Ironwood's tongue worked around the inside of his mouth as he took in the scene in fury, skin burning hot red.

"Report!" he snapped.

"Sir," Clover said sadly. "Lieutenant Colson suddenly opened fire. Private Milner tried to tackle him and was shot for it." He pointed to the wounded trooper. "He was about to finish Milner. I can't confirm who took the shot." He linked his hands behind his back. "I take full responsibility."

Another traitor, and now among his own personal men. Ironwood shook with rage, teeth grinding together. Two seconds. That was all it took of him taking his eyes off the prisoners for them to be ripped out from under him. Two _damned_ seconds.

"No one is to be discharged for this," he growled. "Everyone acted as they believed they had to. Private Milner did well on attempting to take the traitor alive - see him to the infirmary. Ace-Ops, we are taking the civilian to receive medical attention and we are subduing anyone who so much as tries to _breathe_ in her direction. I don't care if it's the janitor or Jacques Schnee himself, they are arrested on the spot. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

/-/

Jaune held onto Coral, supporting her head against his shoulder with an arm behind her back so she could sit up in the bed. One of her hands clutched his with a grip that threatened to never let go, a far cry from the standoffish and normally distant girl she'd been. Then again, they were all of them different now. Changed.

Adam dragged the researcher in and gripped him by his collar, pulling his head back to show his face. The man was terrified and had obviously been sobbing, but he was unharmed. There was a gag in his mouth, and Jaune had a feeling it was because the researcher wouldn't stop talking.

Blake stood nearby, tense and visibly shaking.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time but once Coral woke, he'd suddenly realised how painful seeing someone from her captivity might be. It was too late to go back now though, and he'd filled her in on what had been said, and then been surprised to find there _were_ one or two doctors who had tried to be kind to them, giving him a shred of hope.

"I remember him…" Coral's voice was raw and croaky, dull and flat. "I… I remember him…"

"He says he helped you," Jaune whispered to her, rubbing her back. "He says he was a doctor who looked after you. Is that true?"

"Looked… after…? Ha… Ha – ack! Kak!"

"Coral!" he yelled, rubbing her back as she buckled over, coughing violently. Fitch hurried over, took his hand away and gave her back a hard slap. It helped, Coral spitting out some saliva and breathing a little easier. "This is too much," he said. "You need sleep."

"No." Her hand dug into his. "I-I can do this. I'm not… hah… useless."

"I never said you were…"

"Saving me. Little brother. When did you… ah… become the hero?" Her smile was distant, but there was the faintest hint of the sarcastic sister he was used to. "Let me… hah… speak. I recognise him. I know him…"

The doctor whimpered.

"T-They wanted to get mom pregnant. Breed… more." Coral's words were jittery but got better the more she spoke, some strength returning. "There was another – a woman – and she said injections. Medical. Frozen sperm cells to fertilise an egg. _He_ said that was a waste." Coral spat it out. "He said it would take time. Effort. Cost. Be quicker to – to do it the other way. The _easier_ way." Her breath rattled as she snapped out, "He wanted Amber. He – He said `dibbs on the young one`."

The silence left behind by that was suffocating. Jaune's head kept spinning, his eyes failing to find focus as what she'd just said filtered through. There wasn't a White Fang member there who didn't tense and turn toward the researcher.

The tent flap was pushed aside as Blake stormed out, her face hidden in shadow.

Adam watched her go but kept hold of the researcher. His lips were drawn back and his teeth were gritted, however. He kicked the man's knees out and pushed him down, holding on tight as the monster tried to break free.

"You're sure?" Adam asked.

"I can't forget him," Coral whispered, eyes clenched shut. "He liked to touch during check-ups…"

The man was dragged out wailing through his gag. Adam didn't ask him what he wanted doing, either knowing full well or deciding he didn't care to after what he'd heard. Jaune couldn't blame him. He clung onto Coral, rubbing her back as she cried into his shoulder.

Only one man left the camp that night, granted a handgun and enough ammo to give him a fair shot at getting to safety.

* * *

**There we go. Just a quick reminder that I'll be busy the week of 23rd - 29th with my event and speech preparations, so no updates that week.**

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**Next Chapter: 16****th**** March**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	7. Chapter 7

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing **_**my**_** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

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**Chapter 7**

* * *

Jaune heard the footsteps on the deck of the vessel long before Blake announced her presence. Given how stealthy she could be, it must have been intentional. They paused a few feet away, silently asking if he wanted to be alone or not. He turned in answer, flashing her a fragile smile. Blake approached, leant her hands down on the ship's railing and looked out over the waves with him.

"I didn't think you'd want to talk to me," he said. "After what happened."

"I needed time to think." Her eyes didn't meet his. "How is Coral?"

"Sleeping for now. She likes being brought up on deck – the smell of the air, the warmth of the sun." His hands tightened on the railings. "All the things we were denied." Sighing, he shook his head. "I won't apologise, Blake. That man – he deserved to die."

"No one deserves to die."

They'd have to agree to disagree on that one. Blake's silence ever since the execution of Doctor Clementine had been noticed but not a bother, not when he spent all day looking after Coral anyway. Adam had been the one to do the deed, not that Jaune thought that absolved him of any responsibility. Those people stole his family away, killed his father and put them through hell.

Jail time would have been nice if they could rely on it, but these bastards were sponsored by Atlas. As far as the world cared, they hadn't committed any crimes. According to Atlas, _he_ was the criminal. The madman. The terrorist.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"One of the Bullheads went back to Atlas…"

"You're not abandoning them by leaving, Jaune."

"I know. Adam explained it. We know where the facility is in Mistral but we don't with the one in Atlas. It makes sense to go to Mistral, find it and see if they know where the other Atlas one is. I'm not saying I don't understand that, it's just – would _they_ understand it?"

"They?"

"Whichever one of them was on that Bullhead. Would they understand if they knew I was leaving Atlas right now?" His head dropped. "What if it's Amber? She was screaming my name. What if she still is, and I'm just sailing away like this…?"

Blake didn't have an answer. It wasn't a scenario that had one. They were doing the right thing – the sensible thing – but Amber wouldn't know that. Or whomever was on that aircraft. All they'd know is that as the days passed and he didn't come, the cold reality of their abandonment would sink in. It wouldn't _be_ abandonment because he'd becoming back, but they had no way of knowing.

"The only thing you can do is focus on the end result."

Jaune looked at her out the corner of one eye. "The end…?"

"I didn't leave Menagerie with my parents' blessing. We stole the White Fang out from under them and _twisted_ it. They must have been horrified. To be honest, telling them about Lavender was the first time I'd contacted them in over a year."

"How was it?"

"Tense." She laughed. "Very tense. They were happy to see me safe but I can't say they approved. They did promise to look after Lavender, though. The point I'm trying to make is that I knew they wouldn't ever be happy with my decision, but I did what I thought was best for faunus everywhere. And if things worked out like I thought they would, I knew they'd be happy when it all ended and I came home safe."

"It's the same for you," she continued. "There's simply no point thinking about what your family is like now because they're all going to be miserable. Whether they know you're coming or not won't change what they're put through, so try not to focus on what they may be feeling. Focus on how happy they'll be _when_ you save them."

"Easier said than done…"

"I didn't say it would be easy. Going against Atlas is anything but and your Semblance – it's useful, Jaune, don't get me wrong, but not as useful as all the resources they have. You're just one man."

His shoulders tensed. "Are you saying I should give up?"

"I don't have the right to decide what you should do," she said, leaning on the railing again. "It's your life and your family. I… I'm not even sure what _I_ want to do."

"Is this about the killing? It's a war, Blake-"

"It's not!" she spat, rounding on him. "This isn't a war. We've had our war – and we won it! We won it and nothing changed, so what's the point of having another? And even wars have rules, Jaune. Killing that man-"

"He wanted to _rape_ my sister!"

"But he didn't!"

"Does that make it any better!?"

"You want to kill people," she said, slapping his chest. "Does that mean I should kill you now? If we're talking about killing people for crimes they haven't committed yet then that applies to you as well. You're a murderer for planning it!"

"I'm already a murderer."

He turned away, unable to deal with her… he didn't know what it was. Hypocrisy? Anger? Justified rage? Blake wasn't wrong – they'd killed that man for _intending_ a crime that he hadn't yet fulfilled, and while he'd done a lot of other horrible things, those would have earned him jail time in any other Kingdom. Maybe twenty years, maybe less, but not a death penalty.

Did he regret it…?

No. That was the problem.

"You're acting like judge, jury and executioner," she said, trying for a calmer voice. "And I'll be the first to say you've been through terrible things and the people responsible deserve to suffer, but is it really _all_ of them? Are you going to slaughter hundreds of people for this?"

"No. Only those responsible."

"And was a Junior Doctor responsible?"

"He planned to-" He saw Blake's eyes narrow and amended it. "He touched Coral."

"Do we punish sexual harassment with death now?"

"Are you asking me to forgive him?"

"No." Blake pushed off. "I'm asking you not to focus on the big picture. Your sister is safe. Whatever happened to her has already happened. Maybe you should focus more on saving them and less on hurting the people who get in your way."

Angrily, Jaune stepped back and shouted after her. "Are you saying I don't care about them?"

Without looking back, she spoke. "I'm saying you should prioritise. You claim you only want to save them but killing that person didn't save anyone. It was you satisfying your thirst for vengeance, just like some people here do when they kill humans. The White Fang is supposed to be helping faunus, and you're supposed to be helping your family." Blake walked away, though not before saying, "I don't understand where killing everyone who gets in your way helps either objective."

He thought about following her, about grabbing her shoulder, throwing her back against a wall and demanding she not walk away until they were done. The image burned like a fire in his gut, before he tore himself back toward the ocean and forced himself to lean forward. His hands were shaking over the railing, his teeth gritted.

That man deserved to die, and it wasn't like he'd been merciless. He let the pilot go. Wasn't that enough? The innocent – or innocent-ish – person got to live, the guilty one didn't.

_Judge, jury and executioner._

No. That was wrong. He was only that because Atlas wasn't going to be any of them. This group had power – money, men and political resources – so they weren't ever going to come into the light, let alone be held responsible. It was just like Adam said, just like how it was with the White Fang. When two sides of an argument weren't equal in terms of strength, the Kingdom would side with the stronger. Between supporting him and hunting down all these people that could be powerful members of Atlas, or calling him, a regular guy not even from Atlas, a psychopath and killing him, the option was clear.

_I didn't want to kill anyone. I never wanted any of this. Can't she see that?_ Jaune sighed, glaring down into the water lapping against the ship's hull. _I'm only doing this because I need to. Because there's no other choice._

The waves and ocean froth held no answer, nor did the seagulls crying in the distance, signalling their arrival to Mistral, and the continent of Anima.

/-/

"Sable!"

Ironwood made to catch Saphron but thought better of it, letting the girl's hands slam up against the glass screen dividing them from the rescued victim. Saphron bashed her hands on the glass as though to smash through, and it was then that he had to act, drawing her firmly – but also gently – back with one hand.

"Your sister is safe and sound, Mrs Cotta-Arc. We're only keeping her isolated until we can be sure there aren't any infections." Doctors in the room were already checking her, each of them vetted and watched by a second team. Winter and Clover stood at the inside of the doors, guns at the ready. If one of the doctors so much as _moved_ to inject something untoward into the girl without permission, they would be subdued immediately. "I promise that you shall have time to speak with her and look after her once she is awake."

Saphron looked up to him, tears running down her cheeks. Her voice was incredibly small and frail. "B-But she's okay?"

He squeezed her shoulder. "I swear it. Your sister is safe now."

That made for two secured now, and if their records were accurate, another two secured by Arc himself. He couldn't publicly state or condone that, nor could he comment on it in any official manner. That those two had been whisked away spoke of the boy's mistrust for Atlas. A founded mistrust, he had to admit. The treachery he'd seen so far only proved that.

"You called her Sable," he murmured. "She is Sable Arc, then? The… second eldest?"

"Yes." Saphron nodded but was back to staring through the window at her sister. "I'm the oldest and then it's Sable and Coral as twins."

"Does she have any medical conditions we should know of?"

"No. Or… I mean, she didn't. That might have changed…"

"We'll see to if they have, and you will be alerted as her guardian. I hope you understand she won't be allowed off base, however. Not because we doubt her," he said when Saphron whirled on him, eyebrows drawn down. "It is for her own safety. Yours as well."

"Then what will happen in the long run? Will we be prisoners forever?"

"No. I will find the ones responsible for this, bring them to justice and see you and your family safe and sound. Whether you choose to live in Atlas or move away after will be a decision for your own making."

"We don't stay here. We can't."

He'd known that would be the decision long before making the offer and couldn't blame her for it. If the situation were reversed, he'd not want to remain either. Stepping back, he looked to the Ace Ops by the door. "Marrow, Elm. Please guard Mrs Cotta-Arc. Once the doctors have given the all clear, feel free to escort her in to see her sister. Make sure Winter and Clover know they are not to leave Sable's side during this time."

"Sir." The two saluted.

Saphron was too distracted to care and her wife and child were being guarded by Vine and Harriet. Ironwood made his way to the door and out, earning a quick nod from the guards outside, steadily watching everyone who came and went. If tensions had been high before, the betrayal of one of their own on the landing pad had ratchetted it up to eleven. Soldiers who had known each other for years now watched one another as well as outsiders. Trust, and morale, was at an all-time low.

_If it wasn't for the sentiment of the men, we'd be in trouble. The only reason they're still focused is because they're in the know._ Luckily, many of those that remained personally hated the thought of what Atlas was doing and agreed with his drive for justice.

Many, but he knew it would not be all of them.

Ironwood frowned at the open door to his office, touching his sidearm as he opened it and then pausing, eyes wide. "Sol?"

"James." Former General Aldrin Sol turned his way, smiling briefly. There was another man in the room, quiet and reserved, head down. "I'd come looking for you but no one could say for sure where you were."

"Intentional." He didn't elaborate. "What are you doing here, Sol?"

"You're guarded, James. I suppose this affair has us all feeling the same. I heard about the debacle on the landing pad. How is the young private?"

"Wounded but alive, cheerful and promoted."

"Good. Such quick thinking deserves recognition. Always hard to find those willing to make the difficult choices." Sol moved aside, allowing Ironwood to take his seat. "The Military Council are antsy, James. They're not pleased with proceedings."

"With what exactly?"

"The Vytal Festival is coming up and not enough preparation is being done on our end."

"The festival can wait," he snapped. "We have traitors in our midst!"

"I agree, but you know the world is bigger than that. Bigger than Atlas. I took the liberty of delegating some of the prep detail for the festival for you. I hope you don't mind? It's only manpower, Knight units and the like."

"If it keeps my workload low, I'm grateful. I have to focus on this, Sol."

"I recognise that, but not everyone will." Sol sighed. "The Council is putting out a bounty for the boy's head."

Ironwood slammed his hands down. "What!?"

"I tried to stop them," Sol said, spreading his hands wide. "I told them this would only exacerbate the situation, but they're determined. Worse, the Schnee are funding half of it."

"Jacques," Ironwood growled. "Why…?"

"Likely the boy's connection to the White Fang. I doubt Jacques Schnee of all people is in bed with this shadowy organisation you're hunting, not when it also struck at his family. An unhappy coincidence, or perhaps an inevitable result of the man's personal campaign against the faunus." Sol rolled his eyes. "Either way, there will soon be a reward on the boy, five million alive, two and a half dead."

Those idiots. Didn't they understand how much harder that would make it to convince Arc to give himself in? Of course they did – they just didn't care. Justice was decided by those in power, history by the victor. Better Jaune Arc die than live as a constant stain against Atlas' honour, and a threat against its people.

"Do you only come to deliver bad news, Sol?"

"Not only. Aside from being willing to lighten your load by dealing with the Vytal Festival, I've also managed to find this young man." He gestured to the man in uniform, who still looked afraid. "He claims to be a survivor from the White Fang's raid on that recent facility."

Ironwood sucked in a sharp breath.

"Coming right back to Atlas and admitting that." Sol chuckled and shook his head. "It's wonder he wasn't gunned down immediately, but I suppose it came as a surprise even to them. They might not have had the time to retaliate and I moved in quickly, securing him before he could be sent to incarceration."

It went unsaid that the man would have surely died there, _removed_ in the same way the other witnesses had. Aldrin had certainly saved him that fate, and in doing so presented Ironwood a living witness at last.

"Who knows you took him?"

"Too many. I had to sign forms, James. There's a paper trail." Aldrin stepped back toward the door. "Work him quick. Get whatever you can out of him. And boy," he addressed the prisoner, "I would encourage you to work with General Ironwood. If you are useful, he will keep you safe. I shouldn't need to say what your _former employers_ will do to you should they have the chance."

The young man nodded urgently. Aldrin sent one to Ironwood and moved to the door. Before he left, however, he sent a parting message.

"I wasn't able to stop news from spreading, James. The young man told his story and gossip will see everyone know before the day is out. He survived, but another did not. Your young escapee ordered the _execution_ of an Atlesian citizen."

James' eyes drifted shut and he swore lightly.

"No matter how just his crusade is, no matter how sympathetic we might be, that is an action we cannot ignore. It is an act of war." He opened the door and stepped out. "I will try and delay the Council, but I cannot control them, nor can I convince them to ignore this."

The door closed with a swish.

Ironwood's eyes fell on the young man, who even now still wore the distinctive uniform of a pilot.

"Tell me everything."

There was no defiance. The pilot spoke.

/-/

The White Fang camp set up on the north-west coast of Anima was quiet. Small dust-powered stoves cooked food, while sentries scouted wide and far. The tents they normally erected in a circle had been built up in the shadow of a large cliff face. Jaune focused on helping Coral into Fitch's medical tent, chatting quietly over dinner and reminiscing about the past.

"Can you trust these people you're sending me with?" Coral asked.

"Adam says we can. They'll get you to Menagerie. It'll be safe there."

"Will it? Can you honestly say they won't come for us?"

"I… well, no." He couldn't lie to her. "But it's the place where Atlas has the least power, and I'm going to keep looking for the others. They'll be so focused on trying to stop me that they won't even care about you."

Coral chuckled tiredly. "That's likely. You're going to get yourself killed."

"Not until I've saved everyone."

"Don't," she hissed. "Don't talk like that." Her eyes were unfocused, as much a result of not having her glasses as the painkillers she was still on. Her hand gripped his tightly, however. "It means nothing if you die doing this. It has to be you _and_ us safe, or it's not worth it."

"I know." He closed his other hand over hers. "I didn't mean I'd save them, _then_ die. I fully intend to come back to Menagerie when everyone's safe. We'll start up there. Maybe I can get a job working as a fisherman. Blake says they do a lot of fishing, being an island and all."

"You're a wanted criminal, Jaune…"

"Ah." His mouth suddenly felt dry. "Right." He laughed. Nervously. "Well, maybe it won't be that simple."

He'd not even considered it. Considered what it might mean in the end. Could he retire in Menagerie? Wouldn't Atlas be hunting him for what he'd done? They almost had to, and that kind of political pressure – it was Adam's talk about strength all over again. If Atlas pushed, Menagerie had to fold. It couldn't be seen to host someone wanted for murder against the superpower that was Atlas.

What was going to happen when this was all over?

"I-I guess I'll have to clear my name…"

Coral's flat stare told what she thought of that. He couldn't blame her. How would he prove it? Even if he found evidence, they'd just bury it, kill him and move on. Atlas wouldn't accept it because they couldn't be seen to. How ridiculous would it look if a single man outsmarted a whole Kingdom and proved they'd been running illegal human experimentation?

Atlas would be seen as villains globally. They couldn't allow that.

"Maybe I can make a deal with them. My silence for theirs. I don't know." He forced a smile and shook his head. "Anyway, it's a little early to be talking about that. Let me focus on finding the others first. If needs be, I can always fake my death and you can welcome James D'Arc into the family. I hear he's an awesome guy, really handsome."

"Say that and no one will believe it's you."

"Harsh." He laughed. "Mom always said I was handsome."

"You're such – ack – a mommy's boy!" Coral's laughter descended into a coughing fit, with Jaune rubbing her back to help get it all out. Once she was done, he made to bring a glass of water to her lips only for her to take it off him with a tired glare. "I'm not useless."

"I know. I just worry." He watched her hackles lower as she drank. "You'll be safe in Menagerie. Lavender is there and she's with Blake's parents. Look after her, okay? You're older than her and it's bad enough me leaving her there alone. You can trust Ilia, too. She promised to help look after Lav."

"Hmm." Coral finished her water. "You better look after yourself. We can't save them if you fail."

No pressure then. He nodded, knowing she wasn't trying to be mean and instead making it clear, in her own way, that she wanted him to stay safe. "I won't take any risks, sis. I can't afford to."

"Good." Her lips curled up. "When did my little brother become this responsible?"

_When I became the man of the family,_ he didn't say. There was no use ruining the mood by bringing up their father. "I was always this responsible," he said instead, grinning. "I just never had to show it. Maybe I was always super cool and you just never realised."

"Idiot." Coral smiled and leaned back onto the bed. "I'm going to sleep. Don't let them take me away without waking up. I… I want to say goodbye properly."

"It's not goodbye. It's `see you later`." He helped pull the blanket up over her. "But I'll wake you up, I promise. Have a good night's sleep, Coral."

"G'night…"

Her breathing evened out quickly, the fatigue and drugs doing their job. Fitch sent him a quick nod and a smile, silently promising to keep an eye on her. The poor medic of the White Fang hadn't exactly signed up for this, but Jaune appreciated the effort. He was a good man. Faunus. However they preferred it said.

On his way out to find some food, a faunus in a mask hurried up. "Masks on. We've got guests."

Guests? To a hidden terrorist camp? Jaune swore and pulled his up, securing it behind his ears and following. It couldn't have been an attack or the alarm would have been sounded, but who the hell came up to the White Fang to talk?

_The group we're meeting with? No, it can't be. We wouldn't need masks in that case._

A crowd huddled a respectable distance from Adam's tent. It was the kind of distance that implied they weren't watching even if everyone knew they were. Pushing through, he saw Adam facing off against three people.

Three humans.

Adam was tense. Guarded. Conversely, the humans were surprisingly relaxed, especially the one in the lead, a woman with dark hair like Blake's. They were talking, though at that distance he couldn't hear a word. The woman's companions were equally outlandish, one having grey-silver hair and the other with green hair. Their outfits _screamed_ huntsmen. The leathers and cloth too loose-fitting and bright to be travellers. Then there were the weapons.

Jaune nudged his way over to Blake and whispered, "Who are they?"

"I don't know." She replied without looking his way. "Came into camp and asked to speak to Adam by name. Took out a sentry on their way in."

"Killed?"

"No. Disabled and brought him back safe. It's the only reason Adam was willing to listen; in case they did something to their prisoner if he didn't."

Said prisoner clearly wasn't in their grasp now, so it must have been a gesture of good will. Why? Huntsmen wouldn't bother doing that when they could just attack while they were asleep. They were clearly good enough to do that if they'd taken out a sentry without signalling the alarm.

The woman continued speaking to Adam, with Adam looking less and less impressed as it went on. He swept an arm to the side, a clear denial, but the woman only laughed and said something in response that had Adam grasping Wilt and falling back with one foot. Everyone in the camp tensed.

_She_ did not. Speaking on without showing any fear, she turned away, signalling for her two companions to follow and then walking away with a parting comment. Briefly, her eyes spread over the crowd, over his face, but she didn't linger and their masks kept their identity safe. The three huntsmen walked into the treeline and vanished.

The camp dispersed back to its tasks, though now with a lingering sense of wrongness. Muffled conversation remained quiet. Tense. Adam shook his head and walked back, Blake and Jaune meeting him halfway.

"Who was that?" Blake asked.

"No one." Adam's eyes were narrowed. "No one important."

* * *

**Cinder and Co make their appearance, while Jaune and the White Fang arrive in Menagerie. This may give a small hint as to the timeline, since this was, to my memory, a canon scene. **

**I'm still sickly and pathetic and resting, etc, hence the low word count.**

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**Also, due to my work event there will be no updates 23****rd**** – 29****th**** March. Hoping I'm even healthy enough to attend that, and currently working to see if we shouldn't postpone it anyway, but certain sponsors want it going ahead before the virus gets much worse, and I do understand. It's going to be even harder to run an event after this month, but safety should come first. **

**Discussions are tense and I personally hate the bravado some people are using. Literal idiots saying things like, "We beat back Hitler, so we can beat back coronavirus" and I'm just wanting to smash my head against a wall because I live in a world with such idiots.**

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**Next Chapter: 30****th**** March (TWO WEEKS)**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	8. Chapter 8

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing ****_my_**** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

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**Chapter 8**

* * *

Adam pushed them on a gruelling pace in from the coast for two days, still wary of Atlas' response and the possibility Mistral had seen them coming, and now even more concerned by the fact three random people could find them so quickly on arrival. When it came to forces that could be mobilised, only Atlas had a standing military of any strength and ability, but Mistral had its fair share of huntsmen, many of whom didn't think all too fondly of the White Fang, or so Adam put it.

What they might think of _him_, Jaune wasn't sure. Being away from Atlas arguably meant that the "crimes" he'd committed there wouldn't matter anymore, but that really depended on what Atlas decided to do. They had the weight to demand Mistral hunt him down.

No such encounters occurred. Whether that was on Mistral's part or thanks to Adam's caution was unknown, but with Coral still hurt and in tow, he was relieved for it all the same. They skirted villages and avoided major roads, Blake and a few younger faunus dropping masks and approaching small towns to barter for food or supplies.

Adam caught him looking longingly at a small village with dust-powered lanterns illuminating windows and the sound of happy people audible even from a distance away. The faunus placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him running in.

"I know it's tempting but we've no idea if your face is known outside Atlas. Don't risk it."

"You think Atlas would push for me to be captured even here?"

"I wouldn't put it past them. We bloodied their noses and showed them as fools – and while they'll blame the Fang for that, it's easier to direct all the animosity toward a single person." Adam looked away, frowning. "And let's not forget the group responsible has operations in Mistral. It's not just Atlas you need to be cautious of."

"You think they have that kind of pull even here!?"

"If anything, I think it would be even _easier_ to have that sway here. For all I hate them, Atlas has their affairs in order." Under his breath, he muttered, "Where it doesn't come to faunus. Mistral is all but run by criminal families. What's one more? Or better yet, money filtered to one of those by a shadowy group wishing to stay hidden. They already have bases here – why else send two members of your family this way?" Adam poked his chest. "Be wary. Mistral isn't safe. It's just a different kind of messed up…"

"Do you think those three came from there…?"

"No. They were something else."

Adam didn't expand on that and quickly walked away to bark orders. He hadn't been forthcoming on what those people said to Blake either, though she did say maybe that was because he'd rejected whatever offer they'd made. The matter was over, or so Adam insisted.

Out of a country ruled by the military and into one ran by gangs. Shaking his head, he made his way back to the medical tent, sitting outside with a quick look in to see Coral asleep once more. It felt unreal that both countries could be so different and Vale so standard, or maybe he'd just been too naïve at the time to realise the similarities. Life in Ansel was far removed from the city of Vale, the seat of the Kingdom's power.

_If it wasn't for what happened I wouldn't care about Vale, Atlas, Mistral or the White Fang. I wouldn't have even thought about it._

What did that make him? Callous? Uncaring? Nicholas would have told him not to go out hunting misery, but he couldn't help but think that attitude was wrong. If all it took for evil to exist was for good men to do nothing, then surely he was enabling it by wanting to live a normal life. Meanwhile Blake and Adam were doing something – and they'd been labelled evil terrorists themselves. Damned if you do; damned if you don't.

A commotion over at the edge of camp drew him to his feet and he reached for the handgun at his side before realising no one else was. Blake and the others must have returned. Jaune hovered on the edge of the crowd, watching as they put several crates down, fresh veg and fruit by the looks of it. The White Fang ran an organised system wherein cooks worked shifts for the whole group, preventing any wastage or hording. He could even see some meat, promising they'd be eating well tonight. A few of the masked members clapped the younger faunus' shoulders, laughing and thanking them for the bounty.

Blake didn't seem too bothered either way but some of the youngest looked enthused by the praise. Spotting him, she nodded and made her way over, unfurling something from her side. A newspaper. Holding it out, she said, "Here. It's bad news I'm afraid."

_Wanted: Jaune Arc_

_International criminal Jaune Arc wanted on crimes of murder, terrorism, theft, assault and violent actions against both military and civilian targets. Last seen in company of White Fang. Considered extremely dangerous and violent, the target is not to be approached other than by trained individuals. Witnesses should contact their local police or Atlas at the number below._

_Bounty:_

_5,000,000 lien alive_

_2,500,000 lien dead_

His own face stared back at him from the front cover of the `Mistral Tribune`, an artist's rendition of the same beside it with a White Fang mask on. His stomach flipped and flopped. He wasn't surprised by the news, but that didn't stop it leaving him nauseous.

"I'm an international criminal…"

"It was bound to happen," Blake said. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault…" he mumbled. Not the White Fang's at all. Even without them, he'd have been labelled this for daring to escape, for daring to believe his family should be free of the sickening experiments.

Crimes against civilian targets, though? Against a scientist who put his sisters through hell, and who took perverse pleasure in the act! How could they say that with a straight face? His fingers gripped the edges, threatening to rip the paper in two.

"Adam still needs to read that."

Jaune handed it back before he could lose it. "I notice they didn't mention my Semblance. Five million to capture me but they're not going to tell anyone what I can do. Not that I want them to beat me, but that doesn't seem a good idea."

"They must still want your Semblance. Enough to keep it hidden. There's still a chance other groups would hunt you down if they knew what you could do. Adam isn't the only one who'd kill to have you on his side."

On _his_ side. Not _our_ side.

"Other Governments?"

"Maybe." Blake shrugged. "Depends if they think it's worth the risk of upsetting Atlas. The criminal families of Mistral would give an arm and a leg for you. Though, if the offer was good, they'd almost instantly sell you back into experimentation. Strange as it sounds, at least you can trust the White Fang for that. They're not in this for money or fame."

"We're," Jaune pointed out.

"We're not in this," she said. "That's what I meant."

He knew she hadn't and that she was aware of what she'd just implied. Blake had been like that ever since Atlas and he wasn't sure what to do about it, or if he should do anything at all. In the end, it was easier to focus on his own problems and leave her to it. Thanking her for the news, he let her go deliver it to Adam, sinking down to sit on a log as she did.

Five million.

That kind of money was unknown to the Arc family. They weren't hurting for money and Nicholas worked a well-paying job of a huntsman, but he had eight children to pay for. Life in Ansel had been relatively cheap, or at least his parents always said it was compared to a major city. Apparently, you could buy a home in a frontier village for the price of a year's rent of an apartment in Vale.

You paid for the safety of a city. The walls, the huntsmen and the promise of never having to see Grimm, where villages outside the walls rolled the dice on their survival as often as not. Ansel had been safe enough, but still cheap. Five million would have been enough to live like royalty there, and was probably enough to buy a couple of properties in a city as well.

"In what world am I worth five million lien…?" he asked the air around him.

His body was weak compared to most guys his age. He was growing stronger and outward, but months of barely enough food to subsist on and no exercise had left his bones poking out at odd angles and his skin overly pale.

They didn't care about his body. Working his hand open and shut in front of him, he engaged his Semblance, and while there was no visible chance to his skin, he knew it would now be as vulnerable as paper. A single bullet, blade or splinter would dig deep, ignoring aura and imbedding in flesh and muscle.

Five million for this. Five million, his father's life and his family's freedom. Jaune gritted his teeth, bitter tears breaking forth.

"I wish I never unlocked this damn thing!"

/-/

Ozpin poured himself a cup of coffee but left the second empty, watching amusedly as his guest spun the chair he'd offered around and sat on it legs akimbo and hands crossed over the backrest, chin resting atop them. He was a messy and unkempt man with a tired expression and rough facial hair in need of a razor. The acrid tang of booze and cigarette smoke clung to him.

"Thank you for coming, Qrow. I do hate to drag you away on your holidays…"

"I'm assumin' it's important?"

"It is." Both Signal and Beacon were currently out for the summer holidays. As a teacher of one such establishment, Qrow's workload had finally eased, which made it doubly painful to call him back. "Rest assured I'm not drafting you into immediate duty. Not yet, anyway."

"Ominous." Qrow washed away his hangover with some booze. "Is this about the shit happening over in Atlas?"

"You've heard of it?"

"I keep my ear to the ground. White Fang troubles."

"It goes further than that I'm afraid." Ozpin took the time to open a news report on his terminal and show it to Qrow. The huntsman sighed and stood, coming around to get a proper look. "This is Jaune Arc. Sixteen, almost seventeen, resident of Vale. Up until around a month ago, presumed dead."

"And now a wanted criminal? Kid's been busy. You want me to take him down?"

"No. The young man is dangerous, perhaps even for you."

Ozpin noted the raised eyebrows and immediate disbelief. It wasn't unwarranted given the obvious discrepancy in experience. Qrow was a huntsman of two decades. Jaune Arc wasn't even a student. The balance should have been obvious, and that Qrow didn't immediately call his bluff was proof of the trust the huntsman had in him.

"I'm guessing you mean danger as in more than just working with the Fang."

"I do. Here. These records are of his Semblance – confirmed in person by myself. Take the time to read them fully."

Qrow shot him a suspicious look but leant down to read, eyes widening a few seconds in. He withheld his outburst and read until completion, but Ozpin could see the stress lines draw tight around his eyes. Qrow's hangover fled as he went on, until his fingers gripped the table's edge and his lips were a thin line.

"Is this real…?" Qrow continued before Ozpin could answer. "No, of course it is. You said you confirmed it. Gods. This… And I thought _I_ had a shitty Semblance. Mine practically glows compared to this."

"Null is quite versatile."

"Oh, I get that. I mean shit as in what people will do to get a hold of it." Qrow ran a hand down his face and then paused, noticing the absolute silence. "Oh hell, that's what this is about, isn't it? It's already happening."

"You're as astute as ever. Allow me to fill you in on the news _not_ released by Atlas. You may wish to take a seat."

It took a solid fifteen minutes to share what James had with him, and then another five to answer questions and allow Qrow a chance to rant himself back to calm. He allowed it with more than a little empathy. Nicholas Arc had been a student of his back when this body was younger, back when his position had been as a combat tutor and not a headmaster. While he'd never claim to have been the man's favourite teacher, they had a rapport.

Nicholas had been a good man and by all accounts he'd continued to be a good husband and father after graduation. That the first time he'd seen him after all those years was to be when his son unlocked so powerful a Semblance had been a surprise, but he could have never expected it would also be the _last_ time he would ever see the man.

"Fucking fuckers!" Qrow roared. "Nick. Fuck. I remember toasting him when the news came in…" He slammed a hand down on Ozpin's desk, gnashing his teeth. "Fucking Atlas. Is Ironwood in on this? I swear, Ozpin, friend of yours or not I'll-"

"James is the one who discovered this and came to me for help."

The wind blew out of Qrow's sails. "Right." He swallowed, then firmed himself. "Good. Good on him. Tell me he's hunting down the bastards responsible."

Ozpin smiled. "James is quite upset at people going behind his back."

"Hah. Nice! Does he need help? I don't mind spying for him. You'd be surprised what people say when they think they're alone."

"That won't be necessary for now. James… I won't say he has things in hand, Qrow. There have been suicides among those he's captured. This goes deep. Sadly, I have reason to believe it goes deeper than just Atlas. Though one family member was caught being shuttled to Vacuo and two were seen headed for Mistral, _three_ _Bullheads_ entered Vale's airspace and promptly disappeared."

"Disappeared? Don't we have radar for that?"

"There was a blip." Ozpin offered a smile, but it had a sharp edge. A dangerous tint. "I'm told it was a simple technological glitch that caused us to lose track of them for a few minutes. Not long, but long enough for them to vanish entirely."

Qrow filtered through that and sighed. "Right. So we have traitors here as well. Awesome."

"We do, and that concerns me. It's not only a concern for the criminal elements conducting live human experimentation within our borders – we've seen where that can lead in Mountain Glenn – but it worries me to think what ends Mr Arc will go to for them. He has already killed in Atlas. He has sided with the White Fang. He has attacked, successfully I may add, military installations. And now, Qrow, we have three members of his family somewhere in our Kingdom."

"Shit."

"Indeed. I've been able to narrow it down to not being in the city. No Bullhead could have landed here, and you can imagine the difficulty trying to set up a hidden facility here. I have Oobleck scouring Mountain Glenn with Port as we speak. It's the obvious choice given Merlot's old facilities there. I've also asked Taiyang to give Patch a cursory once over, though I doubt they'd bring it there. You'd expect such a facility to be somewhere a little less inhabited. They want to avoid detection after all."

"Yeah. Good point. Where do you need me to look?"

"I don't want you looking for them."

Qrow went still. "Come again?"

"I have the faculty searching and your inclusion isn't necessary." He measured the words, watching the play of emotions across Qrow's face. Displeasure featured heavily. "I am as appalled at what is happening as anyone else here, but we must think greater. Imagine for a moment what might happen if _she_ gained control of his Semblance."

"You want me to kill him…"

"No!" Ozpin was quick to wave that down. "No, Qrow, that is the last thing I want. What I want is for all this to not have happened in the first place, for Nicholas to be alive and Mr Arc attending Beacon with your niece, Yang. However, that future is beyond us now and I have to think how much worse things might be if Salem had a way to turn a person's aura and Semblance off. I want you to find him, but not to kill. I want you to recruit him."

The huntsman relaxed, sinking back into his chair. "As a student? Not sure that'll fly."

"It won't. He'd be as you are, albeit less used for combat. An agent. If nothing else, I'd protect him."

"Right. That's better than I dreaded." Qrow cracked a self-depreciating smile. "What do I have to work with? The kids with the White Fang because they're helping him with his goals. Are you going to offer the same?"

"I am, and you can make that clear should you find him. We'll help locate the missing Arc family members and reunite them. If possible, I'll also see the ones responsible brought to justice. Don't push him, Qrow. Don't force the issue. You're the strongest huntsman in Vale but that'll mean so little against him. If he refuses, walk away. We can't lose you."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to leave my nieces without an uncle. Alright, Oz. I like this plan better than leaving Nick's brat to be picked up by the ones who did this to them. They're in Mistral, right? I'll see what I can find. To be honest, I'm worried what Ray might think if she found him first."

The thought had crossed his mind as well. Raven appreciated strength, and while Jaune Arc may have been lacking in the traditional values of that, she'd make an exception for a powerful Semblance.

Raven's portals combined with Jaune's ability to drop the aura of anyone they appeared behind would make for an almost unstoppable combo. Then again, so would any wide range area Semblance that could be fired and forgotten. Or even the boy and ten men armed with guns. It really was a terrifying Semblance. There were stronger ones out there, but few that could so violently upheave the natural order of things.

Would it work on him? What would happen if he died and his soul, which was tied to aura, couldn't exit his dying body to find a new host? While he doubted a human Semblance could defeat a curse placed by a God, it was still worth considering. Especially if it might work in some small way on Salem herself.

"It's in your hands now, Qrow. Take no risks. Do not startle him."

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle as a lamb." Qrow approached a window and looked back. "You keep an eye out for those three that came to Vale, yeah? This'll go a lot easier if we can bribe him in with a safe and healthy sister."

"I'll do what I can."

/-/

It took them two days to meet with the envoys from Menagerie. They were White Fang like them, but oh so obviously less at the same time. It was obvious in the way they moved and acted, how they exchanged nervous looks and fidgeted in place where Adam's people stood firm and resolute.

_Amateurs,_ Jaune thought without any real criticism. It wasn't an insult so much as a statement of fact. These people were less good at what they did, less confident, or maybe Adam was just that good a leader that he could whip a unit into something resembling Atlas' special forces.

Which, to be fair, made sense. You couldn't send any but your best to skulk around in Atlas taking on hostile military encampments. Understandable as it was, it still left him feeling more than a little anxious to be leaving Coral with them.

"Is it really safe?" he asked Adam. "They don't seem… well…"

"Good at their job?"

"Yeah…"

"They're rank and file," he answered, frown in place, "But they're not going into any action so that's fine. Mistral's wildlands are all but abandoned. If it's not the city or the roads leading to the closest villages, Mistral doesn't want to hear about it. They made it here without incident. They can make it back."

"What if Grimm attack?"

"You see those two." Adam pointed to a tanned faunus and his very pale companion, who had silvery hair. "Those are Yuma and Trifa. I won't say they're as skilled as myself but they're at Blake's level or a little above. Those two will be dealing with any Grimm."

The woman noticed their attention and elbowed her partner. The two approached, the man smiling widely and the woman looking Jaune up and down, judging him. The twitch of her lips said he'd come across less than stellar.

"Adam. Good to see you. You need us for anything?"

"No." Adam nodded his way. "This is Jaune. His sister is the one you'll be escorting back to Menagerie."

Trifa hummed. "The human girl…?"

"Will that be a problem?" Jaune asked.

"It won't be." Adam drew a line under it. "Am I understood? If it is, Wilt will be having words with you directly. Human or not, she is a VIP to Menagerie and is to be surrendered to the Belladonna family on arrival. They are allies of the White Fang and have my personal promise of protection."

"Hey. Hey." Yuma held his empty hands up. "We're not saying otherwise. White Fang isn't going to turn away allies, human or otherwise."

"Sienna _is_ curious, however," Trifa said. "Ilia has been… less than forthcoming on details, while Ghira won't allow his new guest to meet with Sienna without both his approval and his presence in any meeting."

Lavender. He knew she was safe, but it was still a relief to hear Ilia was looking out for her. Less so that Sienna Khan had an interest. Jaune nervously looked to Adam, wondering what he'd say. He was the leader of this group, but he didn't rule the White Fang.

"I'll talk with Sienna myself when we have a chance," Adam said. "I've already received orders from her. Interrupting dust convoys. I could write a message but if she wants a face to face meeting, that's going to take time. There's no CCT we can access here."

"I can relay a message back," Trifa offered.

"Hngh." Adam scowled. "Tell her I have an ally working alongside us, but that anything more can't be said other than in person. She'll know who if she keeps an eye on the news. We've not exactly been subtle."

"So we've heard." Yuma laughed loudly. "Numerous bases bust and Atlas in uproar. Damn, Adam. No one strikes harder than you do."

"Jaune helped with that. He was instrumental in our efforts."

The attention slid to him. As nervous as he was, he held his ground and nodded back, grateful for the mask that shielded his eyes from view. They might have been able to see the panic otherwise. Both the faunus regarded him for a long moment, no doubt trying to work out if Adam was serious or not. Eventually, Trifa nodded.

"Glad to hear it. His service is in exchange for safe transport of his family then?"

"Yes. I've assured him of it. Don't let me down."

"We'll see it done," she promised. "Just be sure to explain to the Khan just why he's so important. She trusts you, Adam, but you know the White Fang is more than just her. We'll escort the human safely to Menagerie but that won't stop the rank and file gossiping."

"I couldn't care less what they do, so long as they do not so much as make a threatening gesture toward her."

"I'll stick to her personally," Yuma said. "No harm will come to her. Shall we…?"

Adam nodded. "Jaune, show Yuma to your sister. Trifa, with me. I may as well fill you in on as much of the details we can. I also need you to send a report back to Sienna. We're fine on manpower, but we need to stay out of Atlas for a little while…" His voice trailed off as he and the silver haired faunus walked back to his tent.

A hand suddenly wrapped around Jaune's shoulder, making him stiffen. "So. Your sister?"

"R-Right. This way." He led Yuma in the direction of the medical tent, pulling out from under his arm as he did. The faunus didn't appear to be armed but considering he'd been leading them through the wilderness, that only meant he was good at hiding it.

He trusted Adam and Blake and Ilia, but the rest of the White Fang were unknown entities.

"So, you must be pretty handy to have about if Adam is willing to go this far for you." Yuma fished unashamedly, making no effort to hide that fact. "I'm taking it straight combat isn't what you offer as emaciated as you look. Tactical advice, information? Are you ex-Atlas?"

Jaune's teeth gritted together. "No."

"Oh. I hear that. Not a fan of Atlas, eh?" He laughed and pointed at his head. "Bat faunus. I can hear you grinding your teeth together clear as day. Not a turncoat from Atlas then, not with that kind of reaction."

"I'm helping. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Not really. You're a security risk. Sienna is nervous."

He shot Yuma a confused frown. "Should you be telling me that?"

"Just making sure you're in the know. A nervous Khan is not a friendly Khan. Adam vouches for you – and that goes a long way – but the sooner you properly swear yourself to the White Fang, the sooner you'll be accepted into the fold."

Swear himself…? He had no intention of. The White Fang were a means to an end. Adam knew that, Blake did too. Their arrangement was simply that; Adam helped him find the girls and he helped Adam in return. That might continue after they were safe since he wanted Atlas kept distracted from Menagerie, but Yuma was suggesting something more. Absolute loyalty. Becoming a part of the White Fang officially.

"I'm human…"

"Despite what you may hear we're not entirely anti-human." He said it with a roll of his eyes and a lopsided grin. "Some of my best friends are human. The Kingdoms just like to make us out as that because it stops humans helping us."

"There are human members then?"

"Some. They're mostly informants and backers. Faunus tend to take the brunt of the suffering and you need a certain amount of pain before you act against it. Our human supporters want to help us because they think it's the right thing to do, but not having their backs up against the wall, it's hard to expect them to fight for us. Inconvenient too. There are advantages to having all our combat members be faunus."

"The night vision, right?"

"Yep. Adam filled you in…?"

"He's taught me a few things."

"Sounds like him. Adam is good – the best of us. Listen to him and you'll go far." Yuma stopped speaking as they arrived at the tent. The flap was open, allowing him to see inside to Coral, laid out asleep on an obvious medical bed. Emaciated, pale and dappled with bruises, there was no mistaking her condition for anything other than what it was. "Oh." Yuma closed his eyes and looked away. "Atlas did that…?"

"Yeah." Jaune's hands clenched into fists. "Atlas did that."

"I'll see her to Menagerie, kid. And the others… well, I said most humans don't know what it's like to be treated like animals." He looked back to Coral and then to him, finally piecing together just why Jaune was so gaunt. "There are always exceptions. I'll make sure Trifa knows." Yuma removed his mask and stored it away, revealing a friendly and quite handsome face. "Nothing will happen to her on my watch, friend. I can promise you that."

/-/

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly." Adam watched Trifa's face cover the full range of shock, denial and finally stunned understanding. The woman slumped, collapsing onto the foldable stool he'd offered her. The reaction was about what he expected.

"Cancels aura…? That's… It's insane…"

"It's dangerous is what it is. One misapplication and he kills us all. The potential, though. Well… I'm sure you can see where I'm coming from."

"I can. This… Adam, hell." Trifa shook her head. "I'll tell Sienna. I can't speak for her, but there's no way she won't support you on this. The girl will be safe. I'll personally throw myself in front of anyone that so much as steps her way. If she were to die in transit, I can't imagine what he might do."

He could. Jaune was a man balanced on the edge of a knife, with but the slightest push being all that was required to send him tumbling down. If the White Fang failed its promised duty to him and provided that push, it would be a disaster. He'd already killed. It took time for even the most haunted of White Fang to kill a person.

Backed into a corner, that timeframe shortened drastically. Survival instincts made monsters of everyone in the end, but Jaune had another altogether more dangerous trigger.

"We're working to find his family. I'm still taking the orders from Sienna and we'll see them done, but make sure she knows we're not running rogue out here. These facilities are run from Atlas. The last thing we need is them actually finding a way to manufacture this."

"Agreed. They have to be shut down. What of the boy? Is he loyal?"

"He's allied-"

"That won't be enough, Adam. Not for Sienna. You know that. Is he loyal?"

Adam clenched his lips together. He couldn't say it and wouldn't insult Trifa by saying. Jaune was loyal to one thing and one thing only, his family. That wasn't going to change any time soon. "Once his family are safe and sound, he'll be free to make his own choices. At that point he might well choose to repay us by joining. I don't want to push it now."

"Sienna won't like that."

"Sienna will just have to accept it!" he snapped. "He's already wanted by Atlas and we both know the political weight they have. The more he works with us, the more they'll push him further and further into our hands. Tell her we need to be patient with this; Atlas is doing our work for us. Give it half a year and there'll be nowhere he can go _other_ than to us. They'll drive him into our hands, and he'll defend Menagerie to protect his family."

"That's still conditional on his family being there, Adam. It's not true loyalty to the cause…"

Damn Sienna and her loyalty. How many of them _really_ were loyal to the cause anyway? He was, but there were just as many who were only there because they'd been driven out, then more members who were just supporting family and would jump ship the second they did.

They weren't all as potentially powerful as Jaune was of course – that was why Trifa was making such a big deal of it, and why Sienna would be on his back until Jaune was fully sworn in. The risk of him jumping ship and turning traitor was too high. _If it were anyone else, Sienna wouldn't even care. In the end, it all comes down to your Semblance. _

He sent a silent apology Jaune's way.

"Give me three months," Adam said.

"Three…?"

"That should be enough time to secure the family here and get an idea on where the others are. That'll also make four out of eight returned. Once we have half of them under our belt, I can push for him to commit. At that point, it'll be clear we're his best chance of saving them. It'll also be a good time to return to Menagerie to resupply since we'll be done with Mistral anyway. I can bring him to see Sienna in person."

Trifa considered that for a few seconds before nodding. "I think that will satisfy her. Alright, Adam. I'll pass that on. Three months and we'll expect to welcome him in as a brother of the White Fang." Trifa stood. "Make sure it happens. If he refuses or hesitates for even a second, Sienna might just decide it's better _no one_ has a power like that."

Scowling, Adam nodded, ignoring Trifa as she walked out the tent flap and away.

Idiots. Didn't they realise what this was? Didn't they see the potential? The White Fang wasn't going to win a war against the Kingdoms, and that was what everything was coming down to. He did his best and made the Fang the menace it was, but he was only one man.

The White Fang needed an edge. Null could become that edge.

But only if Jaune wanted it to be. He could be their greatest ally or their worst enemy, and he could flip the switch between those two extremes in a fraction of a second, even in the middle of a fight, killing them instantly. Sienna spoke of loyalty without any idea of what that was. Loyalty was flawed. It always had been. Loyalties could change over time or in the heat of the moment. They were flexible.

_The White Fang needs this._ Adam stood, blowing out a long breath. _And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure the White Fang gets it._

Sienna be damned.

* * *

**Hey. I'm back!**

**Fully self-isolated now. We still did our event last week, but we did it online via video conferencing. It was honestly a mess. I'd say it worked, but it was as panicky and crazy as one might expect. Would have liked to postpone it and do it all later but with businesses bound to suffer as this goes on, we needed the cash flow so I decided it was better to have a lower quality event and reap the money than postpone for later and refund.**

**In business theory, people would call that a short-sighted decision, but those classes and lecturers never quite remember that sometimes you **_**need**_** immediate answers. No use making plans for two to three years in the future when there's a crisis hitting your cash flow right now. Depending on how things go, there may not **_**be**_** a business in two or three years. May not even be one by the end of this year!**

**But there'll still be fanfiction. Don't worry.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 6****th**** April**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	9. Chapter 9

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing **_**my**_** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

* * *

"The place we're looking for is on the other side of Mistral."

Adam said it like it was a problem, as though he expected Jaune to argue and complain. Why, he didn't know. He'd seen the location the captured pilot gave away just as Adam had, and it was indeed on the other side of the city. Jaune nodded. "Okay."

"We also need supplies – more than can be bought from a small outskirt village. Sienna wants us to hit a dust convoy after this as well, and since you offered to help us if we help you, it's expected you'll take part."

"Okay," he repeated, a little nervous at the thought of that but determined all the same. "What's the problem, then? We can just pass through Mistral, right?"

"We can. You can't. Remember, your face is plastered everywhere…"

"Oh." Jaune's face burned red, embarrassed that he'd forgotten so quickly. To be fair, he hadn't forgotten more than that he hadn't gotten used to the reality of it. Mistral was the capital of the Kingdom, though. There'd be hundreds of thousands of people there, not to mention police, huntsmen and almost certainly agents and employees of the group who took him. "Ah. That's a problem. We have to go around then?"

"Yes – and that would add at least two days to our travel time. It's not so much a problem for us to go through the city; we can remove our masks and pass as regular faunus. You can't do the same and a hood will only get you so far. There are ID checks on the gates."

Adam wouldn't have brought this all up if he didn't have a solution. "What's your plan?"

"I shall take the majority of our forces and pass through the city." He dragged his finger on the map to track their projected path. "We'll gather supplies, ammunition, dust and stop to research on the path ahead. We have the co-ordinates of our target but no idea what awaits us there. That might take us a little time, but we'd have to wait anyway, because you and Blake shall be skirting around the outside of Mistral, travelling through this village here."

Jaune leaned in to look at the one he was tapping a finger on. It was a small enough village labelled as `Sarana`. Next to it on the map was a symbol like an ear of wheat.

"It's a farming village attached to Mistral," Adam explained. "The city doesn't have room within the walls for farmland so Sarana cropped up nearby, practically in the shadow of the walls. Plenty of farmland and it's still within reinforcement distance of the city. Close, but not close enough for there to be a stationed huntsman presence."

Close enough that Grimm would be unlikely, and he and Blake could pass through without incident. It'd be no less suspicious for him to walk around with his hood drawn up and face hidden, but there'd be less people to care, and if they did end up being found, it would take huntsmen from Mistral time to react.

_If they did at all. Since everyone thinks I'm a psychopathic killer, they might decide it's better to not cause a fuss and let me pass by._ The thought wasn't as comforting as he'd have liked. Better to stay hidden and avoid that entirely.

"If this is what we have to do, it's what we have to do," he said.

"I'm glad you understand." Adam rolled up the map. "I've explained it to Blake and she's willing to escort you through. You'll be masquerading as travellers wanting to see life outside the city. Make sure to keep your weapons hidden. Blake knows where to meet up on the other side. Once we do, we'll head straight for the facility your sisters are kept at, storm it and see what we can find about the ones in Vale."

"And then we hit the dust convoy?"

"Yes." Adam held his gaze. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. Well…" Jaune glanced down. "I'm willing to do it, just a little nervous."

"Nerves are fine, so long as you're prepared to commit." Adam stood and Jaune did the same, taking the hint. "I'll see about buying you a burner scroll in Mistral while we're there. That should let you reach Lavender if you're close enough to a CCT. Be sparing with it. You never know who might be listening. If there's time, I may even stop to get you a weapon. Do you have a preference?"

Jaune looked down to his hip, where the handgun and the knife rested. His immediate wish was for a word and shield like his dad, and he could still remember Crocea Mors, the family blade he'd stared longingly at and dreamed of wielding one day. That was the weapon for a brave knight, he'd thought. Someone noble and chivalrous, who stood against the Grimm to save the day.

Crocea Mors was no doubt buried in the mud by now, left behind when those bastards descended on their family. Or maybe someone had found it and was using it as their own weapon. He hoped so. It'd be a better fate than for it to be sold or melted into scrap. His hands clenched into

"Jaune…?"

"W-Whatever you think is best," he whispered. "Probably a gun. I don't really have the training for anything better. Maybe one that can also be a knife?"

Adam nodded, reached over and clapped his shoulder in as best a supportive gesture as the harsh faunus could. "I'll pick you something worthwhile. A weapon doesn't judge the worth of a man – his actions do. Save your family and I doubt you or they will care what weapon you do it with."

"Yeah." Jaune smiled. Nicholas wouldn't care either. He'd just want the girls back home. "You're right."

/-/

The two groups split up half a day out from Mistral, ostensibly so that the White Fang could further disperse and enter Mistral in groups of two, three or even alone over the course of several hours. For them, it was as simple as removing their masks and pulling on some casual clothing. Jaune wished it could be the same for himself.

"Here." Blake handed him a long and flowing traveller's cloak. It looked like a light brown raincoat that could be secured around the shoulders with a hood drawn up. So that he didn't look too suspicious, she wore the same. "You'll want to keep that up once we're in the village. We'll be spending the night there."

"Is that safe?"

"Safer than camping where Grimm might find us. It's going to be a day to reach there and then a day to reach Adam on the other side. If we arrive at Sarana late, no one should look at us strangely for renting a room and spending the night there. We'll leave the next morning, with no one the wiser."

"Alright." He threw the coat on and pulled the hood up. "I'm sorry about this by the way. I know it's my fault we have to go out our way."

"Don't borrow guilt. It's hardly the first time we've had to do something like this."

Mistral's terrain wasn't as rough and rocky as Atlas, and the constant greenery of the forests and the bright flowers made for a pleasant experience if one ignored the number of miles they had to cover. Blake had them stop three times, and unlike Adam she spaced those out to ensure comfort, instead of walking until they were on the verge of collapse and then stopping to camp.

Be it at a stream to collect water and rest their feet or a wide meadow to stop and have some lunch, the pace she set was much softer than he'd become used to. Given that there was no real rush to reach the village, he didn't let it bother him. They'd reach it at some point tonight and then Adam and the White Fang the next.

If there was one thing Adam had made clear it was that slow and steady was better than reckless aggression. Better he save _all_ his family and it take more time, than half his family sooner and then die and condemn the others to suffering until death.

Along the way they talked, Jaune about Ansel and his family, and Blake about Menagerie and her own. Given his sisters would be setting up there, he had a vested interest in knowing more about what sounded like, from Blake's words, a beautiful island paradise.

"It's mostly fish. Menagerie is an island so there's a lot of seafood."

"I bet that wasn't a problem for you."

Blake shot him a glower. "Is that a joke on me being a faunus?"

"No. it's a joke on your eating habits."

"Fish is good," she said, snapping back ahead with a huff. "It tastes great and is full of protein and essential oils. Better than the fat and carbs you all eat in Vale."

"Hey now. We don't live off that." He laughed under his breath; Blake sure was quick to embarrass, which you wouldn't have expected given how calm she normally was. "And seafood is good. I'm sure the girls will love it. How about your parents?"

"They're good people. Ghira, my father, is big and intimidating but soft on the inside, while Kali is the opposite, all demure housewife on the outside and cunning trickster in secret. They're both protective so your sisters will be safe with them."

"They sound like good people."

"They are."

The sympathetic, or perhaps downright pitying, look she sent him forced his eyes away. He knew what she was thinking - that she should suddenly appreciate her parents a lot more since she still had them. He couldn't disagree but also couldn't take his own time to grieve. He'd never stop if he started.

"They started the White Fang, right?"

"Yes. Back when it was a peaceful organisation."

"And you and Adam disagreed?"

Blake frowned. "We did. I… Looking back, I can say they weren't wrong, but neither were Adam and Sienna. We were achieving nothing. No one cared enough to listen to a thing we said. Our protests would make the news and people might clap along but everyone in power just rolled their eyes and ignored us like we were children acting out."

_Power,_ he thought. It was like Adam said, the White Fang hadn't had enough power to make their voices heard. If it were the military or huntsmen of Atlas on strike the city would capitulate because they needed them, but faunus were cheap labourers mistreated and given the worst jobs. Since most of them were desperate, the power laid with those in charge.

They'd been too easy to ignore. In a way, Atlas birthed the violent White Fang, though he knew they'd never believe nor accept that. They'd birthed him as well, or at least the wanted criminal version of him.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" Blake asked suddenly.

"Huh? You mean saving my sisters?"

"No. That's obviously justice. I mean the White Fang. Adam. Us."

"Oh." Jaune considered it for a second, trudging along beside Blake with his eyes ahead. The trees were beginning to thin out and he could see the horizon ahead, the blocky forms of buildings coming into focus. Sarana. Blake's question came first. "I think you are. Obviously, terrorism isn't ideal and maybe I'm biased because I've been labelled one myself, but something has to be done, right? I don't think you're bad people."

Blake didn't look as pleased by the answer as he thought she would be. "You haven't really seen us do anything other than help you. Forget I said anything." She nodded ahead. "Looks like we're here." Her eyes tipped up toward the sky, which had begun to turn red as the sun set. "Not an hour too soon as well."

The trees gave way to golden fields long before they reached the village. The wheat was growing tall, almost four feet in some places. The road toward the village itself cut through the fields with wooden fencing on either side to keep people out. Over those, wooden windmills could be heard gently creaking away, their sails turning slowly in the evening air.

Idyllic. Peaceful. Jaune smiled as they walked down the road toward a village constructed mostly of wood with smoke coiling up from chimneys. It was more colourful than he'd expected, the wood painted bright shades of pink, cream and grey. The rooftops were made from clay and a bright pinkish-red to match. The wooden wall around it led to a gate with the heavy doors pulled open.

The singular man watching from the nearby tower saw them coming and let them go past, leaning on the railing beside a bronze bell with his attention focused on the road behind. No one at the gate challenged them. Jaune and Blake entered the village with their hoods up and packs slung on their backs.

It was late, perhaps seven or eight, and many of the people had clearly decided it was time to be home. Though some of the pathways were cobbled in stone, large patches of Sarana were mud and grass, the former tramped flat so it was hard and baked. The gateway led to a small round plaza that might have made for a village market or gathering area. Houses peeked back in either direction, while a larger building with a large sign over the door and numerous flower baskets hanging from the rafters stood opposite them. The windows were brightly lit and plenty of noise came from within.

"That must be the inn," Blake said, moving ahead. "Come on. I wouldn't mind some hot food for a change."

"As long as it's not fish."

Blake swayed into him, knocking her hip into his and nearly tripping him. The look on her face said it was a complete accident and any suspicion otherwise was mindless paranoia on his part. Chuckling, Jaune chased after her, one hand on his hood to keep it up.

"You sure they won't recognise me?"

"The posters can't have been out long. Keep your hair hidden. It's the most distinctive part of you and no one is going to recognise your face unless they get up and stare at it for a few seconds." Blake tugged her own hood up. "Let me do the talking."

The inn was called the Lonely Badger and featured black and white stripes rising up two poles on either side of the door. It was honestly a lot nicer than the inns he was used to seeing in Ansel, what with the flowers and the bright colour everywhere. When Blake opened the front entrance and stepped inside, they walked into a homely and warm building with plenty of chatter, the smell of beef thick in the air and a roaring fire off by the hearth, tables set around it with people talking away and drinking.

A bar at the back was relatively abandoned by the clientele, only four or five people drinking there while two workers – a large and portly man with grey hair and a young woman of some twenty years with dark brown hair – behind it. Given how small the village was, they were probably father and daughter with the inn a family business.

Blake approached the bar and waited for the man to come over with a warm smile. "Evening. Travellers, is it?"

"Yes. We're on our way east toward the coast and need somewhere to stay. Do you have room available?"

"Of course! We get few enough people coming to stay with the city so close." He gestured around the inn. "Make most of our custom serving the farmers here. I've a room with a double bed if you're together, or two singles if not."

"We'll take the singles please. How much?"

"Two hundred for the night. Three if you want dinner and breakfast thrown in."

Blake paid the extra without question and the man took it, counting briefly before shouting, "Mara. Come and show our guests to their rooms. If you want to come back down and eat, I'll have dinner made up for ya. It's beef and ale pie with mashed potato and veg. Any allergies to speak of?"

"None here. Adam?"

Jaune jumped when Blake's foot kicked his. Right. Fake name. "I'm fine with anything."

The man's daughter, Mara, hurried over with a tired but happy smile, lifting a section of the bar to slip out and greet them. Giving one final order of drinks to a customer at the bar, she gestured for them to follow her up the narrow staircase to the first floor.

The walls were a continuation of the white and black of the inn's namesake, with the walls plastered white and beams of wood criss-crossing here and there in stark black. It gave the place a rural feel, like it'd been built a hundred or more years ago. The floorboards creaked but not ominously, and the rooms were well lit and rather nicely furnished.

"This is the main bathroom here," she said, "And your room is two down from it." Mara opened the door and stepped in, letting them enter behind. As promised, there were two comfortable looking beds, several spare cushions and pillows, a pair of thick sheep's wool blankets and several fragrant potted plants to make the place feel more alive. "I hope you like your rooms. If you have any problems, feel free to ask me or my father. His name is Mikkael, by the way."

"They're nice rooms," Jaune said. "Really nice."

"Thank you! Mikkael inherited the place from his great-grandpa and I'll inherit it from him. It's a family business."

"It's obvious he cares about the place," Blake remarked, swinging her back down by one of the chairs. "I have a question, though. If you don't mind." She reached up to draw down her hood, revealing her black hair and feline ears.

Mara's eyes widened but she didn't react negatively. "Oh, you're both faunus?"

"We are," Blake lied. "We normally keep that hidden – it's easier that way. Do you know what the general sentiment is for us would be in Sarana?"

"Most people won't care. My pa certainly doesn't and would tan my hide if I ever said anything nasty about it as well. But I can't promise everyone would be the same." Mara bit her lip and glanced to the window, presumably indicating the farmland outside.

"Would it be okay if we kept our hoods up downstairs? Just to avoid causing a scene."

"Oh, of course! I'll tell my pa so he doesn't think it odd."

Blake smiled. "Thank you."

The door closed behind her as she left, letting Jaune pull down his own hood and shake his hair free. He ran a hand through it and scratched the itch he'd been wanting to ever since they arrived. "I wondered what you were doing for a moment there," he said.

"Just an idea I had. It worked. We'll be able to stay hooded downstairs and no one will think anything of it."

"Do faunus often have to do that?"

"No." Blake chuckled. "But I figured a girl from a small village living outside the walls wouldn't know better. Some places discriminate, but you see that more inside the cities than outside. People out here have enough problems to deal with without antagonising someone for being faunus. More often than not, they'll just offer bad service or refuse to serve you at all. Causing a bigger scene than that is bad for business."

"You'd think those in the city would be better educated…"

"They probably are, but it's easier to sway intelligent people sometimes." Blake sat on one of the beds and spent a few moments sorting her hair out. It gave him the time to work his boots off and massage some feeling back into his toes. "My father always said it's the rich who push ideals, either to hate faunus or to push certain agendas. Those people live in the cities, and it's easier to sway people when you have all the amenities like newspapers, TV and billboards. No one has time for that out here. If you can work a field, you're a valued member of the village no matter what you look like. He always used Jacques Schnee as an example of that."

Ansel didn't have faunus problems either, to the point that he'd not even known how bad it could be – so maybe Blake was right. It might have also had something to do with how crowded the cities were, or how comparatively easy life was there. When you had more free time on hand, you could use that time however you wanted, even if that was to be a racist.

"Right." Blake yawned and cracked her neck, then stood and patted herself down. "Shall we go down and get something to eat and drink? We'll probably not get a chance like this for a long time."

A part of him felt like he should be against the idea, that he should push for them to focus on his sisters and nothing else, but there was no point forcing such misery. They were here for the night and bound to meet Adam again tomorrow, so how they wanted to use that time was their own choice and would have no bearing on his family.

"Sure." He drew his hood back up. "Sounds like fun."

/-/

Mikkael came to their table not five minutes after they'd taken it by the far window, away from most of the other guests and at a table for two with a view outside.

The huge man came over with stacked plates of food for them and a fervent promise that if anyone – "and I mean anyone!" – tried to cause them trouble for being faunus, he'd personally toss them out on their arses, regular or not! He said it loudly as a message for those nearby, which might have been concerning if they really were faunus.

As it was, it gave them the perfect excuse to keep their hoods up and ensured no one would think them weird for it. A few people nodded knowingly, smart enough to figure it out, and while one or two did sneer their way, they didn't look hateful enough to do anything more than that. After putting the food down along with a large pot of steaming gravy and two barley ales, Mikkael went back to work behind the bar.

The food was incredible. Mikkael knew his way around a kitchen! The beef cuts glistened, and the meat was tender and soft, with the kind of freshness you could only get from food sourced local. Given where they were, it was quite possibly literally delivered from farm to fork. Jaune dug in, and while Blake initially disparaged at his manners, soon she was tearing in like she'd not eaten in weeks.

That seemed to win over the other patrons, who decided that suspicious or not, if they liked good food, they couldn't be bad people.

The ale was a little harder to swallow. Literally. It was also fresh and no doubt homemade, which meant it had a bitty taste and a kick like a horse to the face. Blake wheezed and even he had to pat his chest after the first sip. At sixteen, he'd not tasted a lot of alcohol, but his parents had let him try some small amount of wine and beer in the past, just sips, and Hazel and Jade had also gotten him drunk once by accident when they were meant to be babysitting him. Most of that booze had been acrid and bitter, and while this was no less so, it was also a little more earthy.

Mikkael brought them some dessert after, toffee fudge cake with cream or custard and an offer of a fresh top up of drinks, which Blake refused. "I'll go have my shower after this and get ready for bed. You stay for another drink and come up after for yours."

"Huh. Oh, sure thing. Will twenty minutes be enough?"

Blake smiled gratefully and slid her chair back. "It will. Thanks."

It wasn't a big deal. Seven sisters made holiday arrangements awkward and since most rooms were doubles, it always meant he bunked with one of the girls, usually Saphron, but then Amber and Lavender once Saph and Terra became an item. As such, he was used to working around sharing a room with a girl and splitting time for showers and getting dressed.

Mikkael came back with another drink and took their empty dessert plates away. "Was it good?"

"Incredible, Mikkael. You're an amazing chef."

"Ha! Learned from my wife. You think mine is good, you should try hers. Shame she's off visiting relatives in Vacuo. Mara wanted to go with her, but I needed the help." He put another mug of ale down and headed back, calling for Mara to work the kitchen.

Jaune sipped the ale with a silent smile, coughing briefly as it hit him a second time. Ironically enough, he didn't think he'd be able to get drunk of it simply because it would take a stomach more iron than his to drink that much!

"Strong, isn't it?"

The chair Blake had vacated scraped back and a man sat down across the table from him. Black hair streaked with grey, an angular face and a faint beard along his jawline to a goatee, the man was older than him by a fair bit, maybe even twice his age. The outfit didn't match Sarana either. A white and grey shirt-jacket combo with the sleeves drawn up to the elbow and a black collar leading around to a red _cape_ of all things. The man's shirt had the top buttons popped, showing a generous amount of chest and a small silver cross hanging from a leather cord.

"You don't get booze like this in the cities," he said in a voice like rock being dragged over gravel. "They water it down, treat it and fill it with so many chemicals it tastes like piss. This is the real stuff. Homegrown and strong enough to put hair on your chest."

Jaune agreed nervously, sipping and watching the man over the rim of the mug. Why had he approached him? Who was he? Obviously not a farmer with that outfit. _Stay calm. I've got my hood up and he can only really see my nose and jaw. No one's going to figure out who I am from just that._

"I'm not really used to beer," Jaune said.

"Ale, kid. Ale. Calling this beer is like calling a sheep a cow."

"Isn't it all made from the same stuff?"

"Okay, fine, it's like calling a burger a steak. The difference is in how it's brewed." The man slapped the mug down and sighed happily. "It's in the preparation, not to mention the taste. Whoo! I've travelled all over the world and not tasted food or drink this good."

Now _that_ was something he could agree with. "I know. The food here is better than back home."

"Farm fresh, kid. Farm fresh. The locals must get first pick of the harvest while the cheap stuff is shipped to Mistral and Vale for supermarkets. And these guys probably know how to pick out the good stuff."

"Hm. You're not from around here, then?" Jaune asked.

"I was originally, but that was years ago. Almost twenty years. I live in Vale now."

Vale. Three members of his family had been sent there, though he hadn't done anything in the Kingdom yet. That meant this person shouldn't have reason to recognise him. Jaune relaxed a little, sipping some more ale.

"What about you, kid?"

"Adam," he lied. "I'm travelling with a friend of mine." Because Blake had already said they were faunus, he felt safe adding, "We're on our way to Menagerie."

"East coast, huh?"

"Yeah. How about you…?"

"Qrow. Qrow Branwen." The man smiled cheekily. "And I'm out here looking for someone. Son of an old friend of mine who passed away a while ago. I want to make sure the kid's safe – maybe offer a little advice and a way out."

Jaune's breathing quickened. "Oh? What's the person's name?"

"One that's not exactly safe to be throwing around out here. My friend's name was Nicholas, though. A good huntsman out from Vale who ran into trouble." The man – the huntsman, he realised – was looking at him pityingly, all the while Jaune tried hard not to lock up. "We thought he was killed by Grimm along with his family, but recent news paints a different picture."

"I-I've never heard of him."

"Hm. I'm sure you haven't." Qrow sat back and took another drink. "If I was him, I'd not be quick to trust people either, especially after what happened."

Jaune's hand touched the knife under his cloak. His eyes flickered, varying colours swirling in as Null took hold. Across from him, the man's scroll beeped. The sound startled them both, but more so the man who peeked down at it and paled.

"I'm not here to fight."

_It's telling him his aura is at zero,_ he realised. As a huntsman, his scroll was set to monitor and report his aura levels. That also meant the scroll had as good as sold him out, confirming who he was and what his Semblance was.

Jaune tensed.

"I'm not here to fight," Qrow said again, "But I can tell I'm putting you on edge. That's fine. I'll go." He stood very slowly, pushing the chair back and keeping his hands visible. "But let me give you a quick bit of advice, _Adam_. There are people who would help you. People who have your best interests in heart. The ones you're _currently with_ are not that. They're dangerous."

The White Fang were dangerous? This _Huntsman_ was dangerous – perhaps even more so. Five million lien for him alive and two and a half dead. It had to be tempting, even for him. Maybe it was paranoia; maybe he was wrong; after everything that had gone on so far, he didn't have it in him to trust the kindness of a stranger.

"You don't trust me, I get that, but let me win that a little. There are two bounty hunters on the way here." He whispered it and Jaune tensed. "They're huntsmen out of Mistral. No one in Sarana tipped them off because they started moving early yesterday. A team of four but split into two teams of two. One is on their way to Sarana and the other is headed to Yuroka, a village just like this one but on the _southern_ edge of the city."

Sarana was on the northern border, which meant the team had predicted his path? How? No, it was obvious. In hindsight, he couldn't have gone anywhere near the city so it would have made sense to stick to small villages. They also knew he was with the White Fang and that he'd fled Atlas toward Mistral's north coast.

It wasn't hard to assume he was en route to Menagerie, home of the White Fang, or that he'd have to pass near Mistral to get there, Menagerie being south-east of Anima. He had to cross from the north-west border to the south-east, skirting Mistral as he went.

They were wrong – his goal wasn't Menagerie but the next hidden facility – but they were right enough to guess his route.

"They're a little behind schedule," Qrow said. "A little bird tells me they ran into some bad luck and got delayed." His grin said he was responsible. "So the two of you have time to stay tonight if you want to, but if I were you, I'd get yourself gone before morning."

"And what's to say you're not leading us into a trap?"

"Nothing. I can't offer you any proof, other than to say I knew Nick and I want the bastards behind his death brought to justice just as much as you."

He wanted to believe that. He _really_ wanted to believe it.

"I don't believe you."

He couldn't.

"I know, kid. Don't even blame you." He stepped back, hands still visible at his sides. "I've said my piece, said all I can. Tell your little friend about me. I don't mind if you do. Just be ready to leave early tomorrow if you don't tonight."

The moment the huntsman left, Jaune rushed to their room.

/-/

Blake paced the room, hair wet from the shower and dressed in a simple sleeping gown. She'd been getting ready for bed when he returned, but that was forgotten now. Even as undressed as she was, she had Gambol Shroud in hand and had yanked the curtains shut to conceal them.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know!" Blake snapped at him. "This… Argh. How did he recognise you so easily? No, he must have seen us before and tracked us, but how? We only stuck to the path for the last two hundred metres or so, once we reached the fields."

"If what he said about the bounty hunters is true, he might have guessed."

"Possibly. Looking back, it was obvious we'd have to do this. Adam must have known, but he probably thought we'd have an easier time slipping through with just the two of us. The huntsmen will be looking for a large group of faunus, not two travellers."

"Do we leave now?" he asked.

"No. We could be walking into an ambush."

"But Qrow knows where we're sleeping. What's to say he won't attack us here?"

"Nothing." Blake looked as agitated as _he_ felt. "But if I have to pick between him being forced to attack the inn and us expecting it, or being ambushed on the road with no warning, I'll take the inn. He'd cause a ruckus and we'd have some warning."

"What if they hurt Mikkael and Mara?"

"They're huntsman, Jaune. _We're_ the terrorists, remember?"

Oh. Right. Presumably, _they_ were the ones who were meant to show no regard for the safety of the villagers, while the huntsmen would need to avoid any damage. With that in mind, they'd probably not attack the inn at all. They'd just keep watch, wait for the two of them to leave Sarana, and then attack them in an open area where they didn't have to worry about hostages. Even so, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep easy and said as much.

"We'll have to take shifts," she said. "Belief or not, we'll take his advice and leave before dawn. You take first watch. My night vision will be more useful on the second. It's nine now, so wake me up at one and you can sleep until five."

Four hours. And after he'd been so happy to see a warm, soft bed.

Damn huntsmen.

"Okay. Do I just wake you if I see anything?"

"Shout, scream or shake me," she said, crawling into bed but keeping Gambol Shroud close. "I don't think they'll try anything, but it doesn't hurt to be safe. We'll lose them tomorrow. They expect us to skirt around the wall and stay close. We'll travel further out. I can always patch into the CCT and get a message to Adam to meet us at a different rendezvous. We'll be okay."

"And if we're not…?"

"They're huntsmen from Mistral; they don't know why Atlas wants you so bad. If they attack us, we'll survive the first strike thanks to aura. With your Semblance, the same can't be said for them and out counter-attack."

Bloodshed. They'd have no hope. All their training and all their expertise would mean so little in the face of a single gunshot from Blake and a momentary release of Null. Jaune swallowed, nodded and took his seat by the window, drawing the curtains back to peer out toward the gates of Sarana.

On a rooftop nearby, a crow preened its feathers, watching.

* * *

**I know Qrow is meant to be a very strong huntsman in Vale. I think Ozpin refers to him as Vale's strongest huntsmen, but since no one recognised him when he was introduced by Ruby in Season 3, I assume he's not well-known for it, and certainly not to Blake or Jaune.**

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**Next Chapter: 13th April**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	10. Chapter 10

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing ****_my_**** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Blake had them slip out half an hour before dawn, eschewing Mikael's undoubtedly wonderful breakfast to escape before the sun rose. With the air still cold and their coats wrapped tightly around them, they crept out the back door of the tavern, made their way to the front gates and then looped around the village and headed east.

No one made to stop them, though if the huntsmen or Qrow did want to attack, they'd want to wait until they were away from the village anyway.

"I feel like we should be moving faster," he whispered. He wasn't sure why he was in the middle of the wilderness, but with even the animals being quiet, it would have felt wrong to speak normally. Blake obviously agreed, replying in just as soft a voice.

"We can't keep that pace up. And if we _are_ heading into an ambush, we may as well not run in."

Sarana could no longer be seen behind them. The forest that covered a large portion of Mistral had swallowed up their line of sight, and also sight of the sky above. Blake was navigating via her scroll, using the compass to keep them on track while he scanned every tree, every bush and kept one hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger.

_Why are we trusting this Qrow person? He could be a liar._

He knew why. It was because they couldn't afford to take the risk. With Adam and the others, they were strong. Here and now, they were vulnerable. He'd never felt it more than in the dark forests of Mistral with only Blake for company.

The sun rose a little later, but the strong canopy kept them in the shade, the sunlight simply making it easier to map their route. Blake drew out some rations at that point and tossed some back to him, dried military rations lifted from Atlas and sealed in tight silver wrappers. They'd stopped for each meal yesterday; she must have been just as nervous as he.

It made sense. Blake was strong – weaker than Adam, but still the second strongest in their group – but even she couldn't compare to a real huntsman, let alone two.

Shaking his head, Jaune hauled his pack further up his back and focused on Blake's back. The best thing – the only thing – they could do now was put as much distance between them and their pursuers as possible.

/-/

Blake came to a stop and swung her pack down. "We should take a break."

"No. I can-"

"Jaune." The look she gave him wasn't critical or cruel, nor was it pitying. Drenched in sweat, panting and struggling for the last half hour or so, he was a mess. "There's no point us working ourselves to exhaustion. Sit. Rest. Have some water."

He couldn't find a convenient log or stone, but the grass was soft and cool, still wet from dew, and he collapsed onto it with his feet pushed out before him. His pack slid off one shoulder and he sagged back, laying out flat with his eyes closed.

"I-I'm sorry," he panted.

"It's fine."

"It's not. You're not even winded!"

"I also wasn't kept strapped to a bed in a testing facility for months on end," she pointed out, unstrapping her canteen and holding it out to him. He took it and drank. "That's going to have an impact on your body."

"I thought I'd be better by now."

"It's been two weeks. It's going to take time to undo all that."

He'd known that but his skin had stared to fill out, so he'd assumed he was better. His weight was recovering but his muscles must still have been damaged. Or his bones. He could only hope it wasn't the latter.

The wet grass on his hair helped cool him down. He could have fallen asleep there but focused on keeping his eyes awake, the task made easier by the bright midday sun finally piercing down through the few cracks in the canopy up above. It was a good day – the kind of day where his family would head out to the lake not too far from the house to swim. Jade and Hazel would take his arms and legs and swing him out over the water. Then, their dad would usually punish them by pulling them up over his shoulders and diving in with them squealing like children. Jaune smiled, laying back and taking a deep breath.

Blake found herself a more comfortable position sat against a fallen log. Like him, she took a drink and fished out a protein bar. She snapped it in two and held half out, but he shook his head. Shrugging, she ate both.

"We'll be better off once we meet with Adam and the others again. More people to keep watch. Even huntsmen have to keep numbers in mind, and Adam and I are comparable. Well, Adam is. I'm still learning."

"I can't believe they're after me. Shouldn't they be fighting Grimm?"

"It's not that steady a job. The places worst hit by Grimm are also the poorest, plus huntsmen go after criminals as well. The SDC has a bunch on retainer. It wouldn't surprise me that some hunt down bounties."

"Just doesn't seem right. My dad never did that…"

"To each their own. You realise _we're_ the last people who should be able to preach about morality, right?"

"Speak for yourself. I feel perfectly justified doing what I have done."

"Good for you." She closed her eyes. "Not all of us have the justification of our families in mortal danger. You've not seen a proper White Fang raid yet. Wait until after we get your sisters here. Adam wants you helping us with the robbery on the SDC train-"

Blake cut off suddenly, holding her hand out for silence. Jaune went still, listening as best he could. There was nothing. The birds and insects were still chirping away – so surely there was nothing to be worried about.

And then he heard it.

They were only singing from his left. There wasn't a sound from his right.

A _thunk_ snapped his eyes back to Blake, who had dodged to the side a second before a huge spike hit. It struck the log and punctured through it, attached to a metal chain that reeled back suddenly, yanking it away and spilling Blake to the floor. The chain hauled back, the log splintering on the ground as Jaune and Blake scrambled to their feet.

The chain reeled into a large metal cannon carried by a burly man with bare, tattooed arms. It kept drawing in until the spike rested in the chamber snugly. The man strode out, large, bushy beard covering the lower half of his face but not quite hiding his wide smile. His leather jacket was open, his green cargo pants stained with mud and grass.

"Well, well," he said. "Not bad reflexes, missy."

"Be careful Jaune," Blake hissed. "We don't know where the other one is."

"Other? Ha. So you knew we were following. Hear that, Sarah? Guess you got spotted."

A rustle of the trees above preceded a woman dropping down into a crouch. Older than them, somewhere between twenty and thirty, she had dirty blonde hair drawn back into a tight ponytail and a green tattoo down half her face, curling around her eyes and jaw like a dragon. Dressed in much more form fitting blue leather undershirt with grey shorts and shin-high boots, she had a bandolier of knives across her chest and a baton in hand.

"I doubt it was _me_ who gave us away, shit for brains. More likely your fat ass hulking its way through the woods." She paused as her partner barked a quick laugh. "Alright, kids," she said to them. "Time to surrender. Not a bad effort fleeing Sarana, but your tracks were easy to follow. Guess they didn't teach you that in Terrorism 101."

Blake already had Gambol Shroud out and was edging toward him. They'd have a better chance together, though even then the odds were against them. Maybe there was something he could do about that.

"We're not terrorists!" Jaune shouted. "This is all wrong – I've been framed!"

"Then you won't have any problem coming in with us, will ya?" the man asked. "Get your chance in court to defend yourself."

"As if they'd be a court battle. I'll be thrown back in that fucking testing lab!"

"Don't listen to him, Ralph. The guy's wanted for murder."

"Tch. You think I'm an amateur?" Ralph hefted his harpoon cannon. "Two ways we're doing this. The easy way – where you give up and we go on our way – or the easy way where we beat you unconscious and take you anyway." He grinned. "Your choice."

"You should be fighting Grimm!" Jaune yelled.

"Easy way it is."

The harpoon fired between them and with the distance, not to mention how slow it was, dodging was easy. Jaune realised the mistake a second later – the harpoon had been shot not to hit but to drive them apart. The second he was away from Blake the woman was on him. Far faster than her counterpart, she smashed her baton into his raised arm, cracking bone and sending him spinning away.

His shoulder struck the grass first, arm burning. He scrambled to get his feet under him, but Sarah was faster, streaking forward to slam her foot into his midriff, launching him up into the air. Her baton came down on his spine, driving him back down into the dirt.

All of that had taken mere seconds – with not enough time for him to even draw his knife.

"Jaune!"

"Not so fast, missy." The burly man came charging in toward her, far slower than his partner but still a problem. Blake flipped back and opened fire, but he raised his cannon to block the shots, planted one foot down and _whipped_ the weapon to the right.

The solid metal cannon missed her as she bent back, but the chain attached to it whistled and snagged her leg, ripping Blake off her feet and sending her twirling into a tree nearby. It then tightened as he reeled in, clamping down on her ankle and yanking her forward. Turning over onto her back as she was being dragged in, she shot twice at his face with Gambol shroud.

He blocked it with his arm but had to stop reeling, which gave her a chance to pry her weapon into the links and bend one, letting her drag her foot out. The skin was bruised where he'd hit her, but she staggered away, whipping her own blade on its ribbon toward his head.

"A girl after me own heart," he chuckled, ducking under it. "No reward for you but I figure you're guilty by association. I'm sure the authorities would love to take you in for questioning. The less White Fang, the better."

"Leave us alone," she panted. "We're not your enemies."

"Enemies?" He smiled. "Lass, there's nothing personal about this – we're bounty hunters, simple as. And your boyfriend has quite the bounty on his head." He lurched into a run toward her, one shoulder dropped to ram her down. "So be a good girl and stay down!"

Jaune forced his aura to his hands and blocked the next kick. It still hurt a bitch, but the force sent him skidding back and onto his feet. Wrenching his knife free, he held it out in front of him. The fact he was armed didn't impress his opponent much, who tossed her head back and flicked a throwing knife out toward him.

He tried to parry it away, but it was too fast – the metal speared into his shoulder, sparking off aura but still sending a lance of pain through his tired muscles.

"Are you even trained?" she mused. "This isn't as much of a challenge as I thought it would be. Five million for someone that can't even fight back."

"I'm not a murderer! It's Atlas. They killed my dad and they're trying to-"

"Save it. You think you're the first bounty to make up some cock n' bull story to try and convince us to let 'em go? Don't make me laugh." Striding forward, she ignored the threat of the knife. "The courts will decide whether you're innocent or not. Running away from that just makes you look even more guilty!"

He gritted his teeth together. "That's because Atlas has bought them out!"

"Likely story."

They weren't listening. No one was listening. Fury burned under his skin like fire and he charged in, roaring at the top of his lungs as his knife stabbed forward.

Her hand gripped his wrist as she side-stepped the thrust, twisted, disarmed him and then yanked him off balance before driving a knee up into his gut. Spit and blood spat from his lips, eyes bulging out as the force of it eclipsed even the worst blow from Adam's training sword.

_So this is the difference between a huntsman and a normal person,_ he thought. _They're on another level._

Before his dagger even hit the floor, she'd dragged him up over one shoulder and hurled him away. Jaune landed hard and rolled onto his back. Breathing was difficult, his diaphragm shaking with every motion. Bile rose up his throat, hot and bitter.

This wasn't a fight. It was a massacre. He looked to Blake, hoping she might be having a better time, only to see her foot caught by the man's hand as she tried to vault over him. She hung in the air, eyes wide, before he grinned and dragged her down, slamming her to the floor so hard she _bounced_, back arching and a pained scream escaping her. Her weapon flew away, landing near him.

"Blake!"

"Oi, Sarah." The man drew his partner's attention, stamping a foot down on Blake's spine to keep her in place. "This one doesn't have a bounty. I figure she's still White Fang. We bringing her back as well?"

The woman sighed. "No bounty, Ralph. Just kill her."

"Hey…" The muscular man frowned. "You know Samsara won't like that. We're bounty hunters, not killers."

"Do you see that uptight bitch here? No. That means I'm in charge." Shaking her head, she muttered, "She's White Fang. They're hardly innocent, and she fought back so you know she's not some unlucky bystander. We'll just say we couldn't take her alive."

"Sarah. I don't like this…"

Jaune's hand found the grip of Gambol Shroud. Ignoring the ribbon and the blade on the end of it, he stood up, one shoulder lower than the other, gun gripped in both hands and pointed toward the woman. She wasn't twenty feet away, so hitting her wouldn't be a problem. With blood dribbling down his chin, he barked out, "Let her go!"

The man didn't make to do so, nor did he look overly concerned with the fact Jaune was armed. The huntress wasn't either, rolling her eyes at him and looking back to her partner.

"Fuck's sake, Ralph. See where your bleeding heart gets us?"

"Least I have a heart."

"Yeah, and it'll be the end of you one day." The huntress turned back to him with a sneer. "That's not going to do you any good, kid. Put it down before I put _you_ down."

His hands shook but he kept it locked on her. "They never told you why they wanted me."

"Right. Guess I'm putting you down."

"My Semblance!" he blurted. "It cancels-"

Sarah charged in, covering the distance in a fraction of a second. Her face was twisted in glee, no hesitation there as she swung her baton for his neck. "Nobody cares!"

_Bang_

The sound echoed in the forest. Those birds that hadn't fled even during the fight did so now, taking off in a loud flutter of feathers and leaves. The silence that hung after was still and ominous, made more so by how everyone in the clearing froze. Blake because she was pinned and Ralph as the one to hold her down, but the huntress also came to a slow stop.

"Sarah?" Ralph chuckled, unable to see what Jaune could. Unable even to see the distorted colours in Jaune's eyes. "What are you waitin' for? Don't tell me you've developed a heart now?"

It was a poor choice of words.

Jaune's hands trembled as he stared into the woman's green eyes, watching them dip down to the small hole in her left breast and the blood spilling from it. He'd aimed anywhere but with her charging in like that, he'd struck her heart. Her aura had done nothing. She'd closed the distance and run straight into his Null Zone.

Her eyes rose to his again, confused and oddly calm, like she wanted to ask a question.

"I-I tried to tell you!" he whispered. It was justification, and at the worst of times. "I tried! You wouldn't listen! You just kept coming!"

There was no forgiveness or acknowledgement for his words. She gurgled once and toppled forward, slamming down face first on the ground in an expanding puddle of blood.

"Sarah…?" Ralph pushed off Blake, eyes wide. "S-Sarah, this ain't funny! Sarah?"

Jaune swallowed. Gambol Shroud dipped down as he stared at the body of a woman he'd just killed. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop her-"

"SARAH!" The huntsman charged toward Jaune, lips peeled back and teeth gritted together. It was a berserker straight out the legends, eyes burning with naught but rage, determined to rip him to pieces with his bare hands. "I'll kill you! Rarghh!"

Gold, purple and white swam in Jaune's eyes as he pulled the trigger.

The first shot struck the man under his neck and he paused, touching a hand to the fatal wound and bringing it away bloody. That hand shook and clenched into a trembling fist. He kept coming, slower now, one foot before the other.

A second bullet slammed into his right shoulder and knocked it back. The man grunted and reached out with his left hand, forcing himself forward through sheer force of will. The gun barked again, and a third bullet slammed into his stomach and splashed blood onto the floor.

A fourth followed, striking him in the middle of the chest – and then a fifth into his left arm, piercing through it and coming out below his shoulder. A sixth, a seventh, an eighth. Nine. Ten. Each shot hit its mark and cut through an aura that didn't exist.

By the time the huntsman reached him he was covered in blood and letting out heaving, rattling breaths. A thick trail of blood lay across the grass behind him, but he still reached out one hand to touch Jaune's neck, to wrap around it and squeeze the life from him.

There was no strength left. The fingers touched his neck, the palm pressing flat against it, but then it slid down his chest leaving blood smeared down his front, before the huntsman collapsed at his feet and breathed his last.

"Jaune." Blake limped toward him, eyeing the bodies with obvious fear. "I – You…"

"I had to," he whispered, shaking. This wasn't his first kill but the last had been against someone in the way of his sisters. This was different, and he didn't like it. "T-They were going to kill you. They were going to take me back! I had to, Blake. They forced me! I-"

"I know. Give me Gambol Shroud."

He couldn't hand it over fast enough, almost fumbling it into her hands. "S-Should we bury them?"

"We should… but we can't." Blake appeared as bothered by that as him. "Their teammates will come looking for them once they realise they've lost contact. We need to go." She skirted around the huntsman's body, doing her best not to look at him. When she noticed he wasn't following, she turned back. "Jaune?"

"Y-Yeah." He stooped for his knife, gingerly picking it up from a patch of bloodstained grass. Should he apologise? Say some words? Would it make a difference if he did? No. They were dead. He'd killed them. Huntsmen.

_And now they're never going to stop coming for me._

"This is Atlas' fault."

"It is," Blake agreed. "If they'd known what you could do, they wouldn't have attacked us. But we need to keep moving. We need to find Adam and get away from here. Can you walk?"

Badly bruised and aching as he was, he was still in better condition than their pursuers. Blake too, clearly favouring one arm and with her eyes pinched. _For my family,_ he told himself, turning away and biting his lip. _I'm only doing this because I have to._

"I'm fine," he lied. "Let's keep going."

/-/

Qrow dropped off the branches and down by the two bodies, scaring away some crows that had come to pick at them. There was blood everywhere, dried now. It looked like the scene was some two or three hours old.

"Fuck me. This is bad."

He knew them. Or had known them. Samsara's teammates – some of the better huntsmen out of Mistral. Not on his level, as evidenced by the fact he'd been able to keep half their team busy to buy Arc and his friend a chance to escape. He'd left Samsara and her partner unconscious by the gates of Mistral, as safe as he could.

Apparently, it hadn't been enough to prevent this.

He waited for his scroll to connect to the CCT, then to Ozpin. When it did, the image of what he'd just found was sent through. The scroll called not two minutes later, Ozpin on the other end.

"_Why didn't you prevent this?"_

"Teams hunt as four in case you've forgotten. I was distracting the other two."

Ozpin sighed, forced to accept the explanation. _"Did you wear a disguise?"_

"I wore a mask like Raven's Figure she wouldn't mind the notoriety. I didn't kill them – though after what happened here, I'm not sure they'll be forgiving."

"_I expect they won't be. Two huntsmen dead, Qrow. Mistral is short on huntsman as it is, they can't afford to be having more killed. Was it him?"_

"Undoubtedly. Gunshot wounds. No other injuries I can see." The kind of death no huntsman expected, which went to explain the shock frozen on their faces. He shivered, imagining himself what it might feel like to have your aura stolen away. Huntsmen relief on it. They had it all their lives and it was something they couldn't imagine living without.

To lose it without warning would be like losing your eyesight.

_The kid didn't look that intimidating but he really is terrifying. I could probably take him if I got the drop, but mess that up even slightly and I'd be killed._ There was just no one you faced those kinds of odds with. Mistakes were acceptable because aura protected you. As did skill, training and form. And yet these two experienced and grown huntsmen had been killed by a single boy not even old enough to attend Beacon.

"_Qrow…?"_

"Sorry. I… This is hard to take in, Oz. I was fine with it before because I was sure he was in over his head-"

"_He is, Qrow. Don't mistake what happened here for proof of a stone-cold killer."_

"I know. I get it. it's just…" He was looking at two dead teammates, and those could have easily been his own. Or his nieces. "I know what it's like to lose a teammate, Oz. Samsara is going to take this hard. She'll blame herself."

"_This is a tragedy, I agree, but it will only become more of one if Mr Arc continues on this path. We must sway him to our side. His Semblance can be used for good just as much as evil."_

"It's a killing Semblance, Ozpin. That's all it's good for!"

But then, that was what Oz meant, wasn't it? Used for good still meant killing, just killing aimed at people on the other side of the fence. At the end of the day, Ozpin wanted another tool. Another Summer. Another Qrow.

Raven always said he was Ozpin's tool and she was right, he accepted that. Why wouldn't he? There was nothing wrong with being used by someone, especially when that someone was trying to save the world from the Grimm and Salem. He and Summer hadn't been tricked into serving Ozpin; they'd volunteered.

This kid hadn't been given a choice.

"What's going to happen now?" he asked.

"_Ironwood has decided to leave them be in Mistral. His reach there is limited, but we know he will be coming to Vale once he is done. Three of his family are hidden here somewhere."_

"Any luck on that front?"

"_No. Peter and Bart have found Merlot's old labs, but they remain infested with Grimm. Wherever these people are keeping them, it's not in Mountain Glenn."_ Ozpin paused for a long moment, Qrow standing still by the dead bodies with the scroll to his ear. _"I want you to contact Raven. Explain to her what this Semblance is."_

"Why?"

"_So she does not get herself killed for what she sees as an easy bounty."_

He sucked in a breath. That was something Raven would be all too eager to get involved in, especially with now vulnerable the kid appeared. Cocky as she was, she'd get herself killed trying to fight the guy one on one. He hated her, but he didn't want her dead.

"I'll talk to her. I'll tell her we're involved, and that Salem is too – that should keep her out." Raven wanted nothing to do with their war. "I'll also scout her camp and make sure none of his family are there. I doubt they will be but it's worth a shot. Wouldn't be the first time Ray has shot down a Bullhead and taken its passengers hostage."

"_If she has, contact me. We shall pay whatever she demands."_

"Understood. I'll get on that now."

Qrow hung up and put his scroll away, then transformed and wheeled up toward the canopy. The bodies lay where they had fallen, food for the carrion.

/-/

"Specialist."

Winter saluted. "Sir."

General Ironwood sat behind his desk with a punishing frown on his face, brows heavy and hands linked before him. In all her time serving, she wasn't sure she had ever seen a worse scowl on the man's face.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"The Council has seen fit to end our investigation into Arc and those behind his abduction."

Winter was not normally one to swear and didn't do so now, but she was sorely tempted. Saphron and her wife would be furious at the news, to say nothing of the Ace-Ops who had put so much effort in. "Might I ask why, sir? Aside from the obvious answer of not wishing to draw attention to how badly Atlas has handled this?"

"You want the official lies?" he asked tiredly. "Very well. A new school year is beginning, and they wish me to focus more on that to ready our students for the Vytal Festival taking place later this year. Given the importance of the festival and its international connotations, they don't want me distracted chasing after what they call a simple murderer."

Reasonable, or so she might have thought were she not involved personally. People had died on her watch, some even trusted by her and Ironwood. This had all the marks of a cover up and she was sure no one had missed the fact. The worst part was that only a few of those involved might actually be guilty of working with those behind this. The others would just be agreeing because they wanted to re-write history and sweep Atlas' crimes under the rug.

"Specialist, I want you to take leave. There's time before the school year begins, so it's an obvious period for you to take time off. And because we have no standing assignments now that this one is closed, no one can complain."

"Understood, sir. I've been thinking of visiting Mistral of late."

Ironwood nodded, pleased she understood his intent. "I do hear it's nice around now. Naturally, as an important VIP you should take bodyguards with you. Choose two whom you trust and enjoy your holiday. Should you need to reach me, you know how."

"Sir." Winter saluted again, this time with a smile. R&R was not something she often made use of so she had plenty available, enough to locate Arc and make contact, she hoped. Enough to try and make him understand that the General was not like those who would kidnap and experiment on him.

"And Winter."

"Yes sir?"

"Do be careful. As much of a victim as he is, he is still dangerous, and more than capable of killing you if startled."

"I understand, sir. With your permission I shall explain to Mrs Cotta-Arc my intention."

"I would appreciate it if you did. It should soften the blow that is the Council's decision. Did you know they tried to organise a court case for her against Atlas?" He snorted. "Not that I would allow it. They wanted to make a show of it, drag her through the mud and discredit her in front of national television."

_I can well believe it,_ Winter thought with a scowl. They'd make her seem untrustworthy and sympathetic to her brother, then portray him a terrorist and ultimately condemn her. They would then sue, swallow her in legal bills and either force her silence or perhaps even use it as an excuse to have her arrested, where she would no doubt vanish or `commit suicide` and be spirited away as a new test subject.

These people had to be stopped before Atlas tore itself in two. The first step would be clearing Arc's name, and that was only going to happen if she could convince him to co-operate. Given everything that had happened to him, she had a feeling such a task would be anything but simple.

"I may take a day to visit my sister before I leave," she said. "Weiss will be attending Beacon rather than Atlas, so it will be my last chance."

"I'm aware. I signed her papers over to Ozpin myself. She will be happy there, Winter, but by all means take the time to wish her good luck."

"Thank you, sir. I shall contact you once I reach Mistral."

"No. I believe my calls are being monitored. I trust you, Winter, so proceed as you believe you should. We know where he will be headed – Mistral, Vale and finally back here to take the family members we have. He will prioritise those most in danger first. The Council are worried he may make a show at the Vytal Festival. This _must_ be prevented."

"Why would he?" she asked. "If he wants to stay hidden, coming to the city would be the worst decision he could make. I imagine he's going to avoid the capital cities entirely."

"My thoughts as well. However, that the Council fears such a thing implies something…"

"That they believe it possible," she whispered, eyes growing wide. "Which means at least one of his siblings may well be _in_ the city of Vale?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Have you told Ozpin?" she asked quickly. "If he can locate hr quickly-"

"I have told him, and he has promised to investigate. Vale is going through difficult times. Torchwick has expanded his criminal empire, the White Fang are active, and things will only get more complicated with the Vytal Festival approaching. Like myself, Ozpin is being dragged in multiple directions at once."

"I will make to stop him in Mistral, sir!"

"Do your best, Winter. Because if he does come to Vale and threaten the city during the Festival, I'm concerned to what lengths that will be – or what we shall be expected to do in the interests of public safety."

At that point, Jaune Arc would need to be killed. Both to protect the huntsmen of Vale, but also to avoid an international scandal that could implicate Atlas. With the best huntsmen and huntresses of the next generation attending from all four Kingdoms at once, it was a recipe for disaster.

Winter nodded, understanding the implication.

In that case, she would just need to ensure he was captured before he could leave Mistral.

* * *

**Happy Easter to everyone! I hope you all stayed safe and at home for it. **

**I didn't have any easter eggs for obvious reasons, but I made my dogs some scrambled egg treats which they enjoyed, so that's sort of topical? Kinda? **

**Who knows? xD**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 20****th**** April**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	11. Chapter 11

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing **_**my**_** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

* * *

"They found you?" Adam swore and smashed his fist into the closest tree. "Damn it. This is the last thing we need!" He pulled his hand away and shook it. "You two did well. Jaune, I'm sorry it came to that, but you have my thanks for saving Blake's life. You did well."

Jaune nodded uncertainly. It helped a little to focus on that fact, as if by reminding himself he'd done it for Blake's sake, he could forget what it was he'd done. Adam and the White Fang had reconvened at a new meeting point at Blake's request, Adam pushing the men double time to reach them before any huntsmen could.

The White Fang were camping now, tired and worn but a fair distance away from the city. Enough so that they wouldn't be seen by any curious passers-by. The additional crates and barrels said the mission to stock up on supplies in the city had been successful.

"There was another huntsman too," Blake said. "Qrow Branwen." Adam's face twitched. "You know him?"

"I know _of_ him. Huntsman from Vale. Strong. One of the strongest."

"What's he doing here?"

"Not sure. He could be on holiday or helping out some friends on the continent." Adam's shrug made it seem he didn't believe that. "Or he's interested in Jaune. I'm more likely to lean toward that since he sought you out."

"He claimed to know my father," Jaune said. "Do you think that's true?"

"Impossible to say. He might, but you'd be better placed to know than me."

True. Sadly, he was sure he'd never met the man, though that didn't mean much. Nicholas kept his job and family life clearly apart. He'd tell stories about it if asked but it was clear he just wanted to be a father when he came home, not a huntsman.

"One thing I'll say is that he knew about your Semblance. That's suspicious. The huntsmen chasing you didn't – further proof Atlas has stayed quiet on it because they still want you. How then does a huntsman from Vale know?"

The question stunned him, though only for a second. Qrow _had_ known, and he'd backed away, making it clear he didn't want to get into a fight with him because of it. That had seemed crazy at the time, but now that he'd killed two huntsmen, he could see why Qrow hadn't wanted to mess with it. Skill and experience meant little against Null.

The lack of surprise, though. He'd not figured it out when it happened. Qrow knew from the start and Jaune had been too panicky to put together what that meant. Had he, he might have thrown caution to the wind and attacked the man straight away.

"You think he's working for them!?"

"If not them then someone else who wants your Semblance. It's all the same, isn't it? They're not going to help you get your family back." Adam tugged mask up. "We are. I've managed to secure maps of the area we're headed to. It's unoccupied territory but not unchartered. Perfect place for something that wants to stay hidden."

Anticipation set in. Jaune licked his lips, leaning forward. "Are we going there now?"

"Of course." Adam's casual response made his heart race. "We'll rest here tonight, move on and camp out of range before planning out assault the morning after. This time, we'll be prepared for them to try and flee. I'll have our men surround and scout the complex to cut off their escape while we go in. Keep in mind there's a chance it may only be one of them. They may not have both kept together."

"If they don't, will we find the other before Menagerie?"

"Yes. We can't afford to grant them the time to run again."

That was all that mattered. Adam and the White Fang may have wanted him for his Semblance as well, but the difference was that they put the effort in. Qrow may have warned them about the huntsmen but it was Blake who fought and risked her life against them, and Adam that delivered him his sisters.

"Before that, I have the weapon I promised you." Adam glanced to Blake and smiled. "Do you want to get a bath and a rest? I know you're not interested in this."

"That sounds wonderful."

"I'll be with you soon," Adam promised. Blake nodded and made her way toward the tents, gripping one shoulder where the huntsman had held her and massaging it. Adam watched her go with a fond smile, one that made Jaune cough nervously. "Ah. Right." Adam didn't flush but he did adjust his mask in a minor show of embarrassment. "Come on. We may as well test this away from camp. No need to spook them."

Adam brought him out to the edge of the trees, still within range of camp. He reached under his coat and drew out a small brown package. It was thin and small for a weapon, obviously not a sword from size alone. It was stamped with a purchase receipt which Jaune checked, wincing at the figure.

"Ignore that," Adam said. "It's an investment. Besides, all decent weapons cost lien."

"I'll pay it back."

"You saved Blake's life. Far as I'm concerned, you already have."

Perhaps, but he'd also put Blake into danger in the first place. He didn't bother arguing but made a note to pay Adam back one day, opening the box to look at the sleek black handgun nestled within a foam package.

It looked simple on first glance, deceptively so. Smooth black metal, a ridged and dappled grip. It was relatively small, less a hand cannon and more a side arm you'd expect to see a police officer wielding. There were two magazines included with it, each heavier than he would have expected. The thing was masterfully crafted, he thought, but not special.

There was more to the package, however. A weight to it. Lifting the foam, he found the rest hidden underneath. A five-inch blade that had an unusually narrow and unwieldy handle. To use it, he'd have to hold it between finger and thumb, and then there'd be no force behind it. _Is it a throwing knife? I have no idea how to use something like that._

"It's a spring-blade," Adam explained, seeing his confusion. "Take it out and hold it against the magazine. Don't worry, it's not loaded. Now, slide both the magazine and the blade's handle into the chamber. That's it."

Holding both together was awkward at first but he found the groove the blade would slot into it and after that, it clicked into place easily. To his surprise, the blade twisted up, disappearing into the grip of the handgun, and retracting all the way inside.

"It's a hidden knife?"

"Correct. Now hold the gun as you would – that's right. There's a button by your thumb and next to the safety. It's stiff, that's intentional. Makes sure you can't activate it without meaning to. Give it a try."

Aware of what would happen, he held the gun out and pressed the button. It took a little force, enough to make sure he had to mean it. Instantly, the knife shot out the grip, stabbing down with staggering force. Enough to pierce skin and muscle easily, maybe even bone.

Holding the weapon upside down, he inspected the wickedly sharp and gently curving knife.

"It's not an imposing weapon but it's a concealed one, and that might be more useful to you than anything else. I considered a longer blade or a combo of both like Blake, but you don't have the training, and no offence but you don't have the time to gain it either. The element of surprise will be your biggest advantage, but that's not the only thing. Did you notice the second trigger behind the first?"

He hadn't but there was one. Calling it a trigger was a bit much as it didn't stick out like the normal one. Instead, if he let his finger off the trigger and slid it back, there was a small button there. Again, it was stiff.

"That won't do anything now since it's not loaded. The has the single barrel but there's a mechanism inside to push a new round into it."

Adam took the weapon off him and showed a separate chamber on the side, a narrow channel that he could probably push three bullets into at best.

"You can load individual dust round here, then when you press that trigger, it forces the bullet in this channel into the chamber. It also forces the existing one back down into the magazine. Don't ask me how, I'm not an engineer. You should keep specific tactical rounds in there. Explosive, fire, ice or whatever you can get your hands on."

Allowing him the flexibility to pick what he wanted to shoot. Within reason. Three shots didn't sound like a lot, but with his Semblance, every bullet counted. The gun played to his strengths and didn't ask too much of him. Even the knife wouldn't require much skill. Just slam the butt of the gun into someone, press the button and they were going to have a bad time.

_And if I ever do learn the sword or something else, it's easy to add to my armament. It's not as amazing as Wilt or Gambol Shroud, but I don't have the skill to use them anyway._ This was better suited to him, tailored almost, and the thought that went into it had him looking up at Adam with a genuinely grateful smile.

"None of that." Adam was gruff as ever. "Like I said, it's an investment. If you want to practice with the dagger, hit me up. Or ask Blake. She's used to a gun-blade combo and might be able to offer you a few pointers."

"It needs a name."

"Hm." He nodded. "That's your job. She's yours now."

Jaune thought for only a second. "Mors."

"Mors? That's… ah. That's an interesting name."

"My father's weapon was called Crocea Mors," he explained. "It was an heirloom sword for the Arc family and part of our traditions."

"Naming this after it. That's good." Adam chuckled. "For a second I thought you were embracing the dark side and turning into a brooding teenager with a name like that. Your reasons are much better, and the name will become fitting in time. May Mors become a reminder that the Arc family hasn't been de-clawed. Use it well and remember that it's bite cuts deep. What it accomplished with it cannot be undone."

Jaune's eyes grew hard. "Yes. They'll learn that soon enough."

/-/

The arrival of a Schnee was a marked affair despite her best efforts to the contrary. No sooner had she stepped off the aircraft were cameras flashing in her direction. Winter bit back a growl and forced a pleasant smile instead, nodding politely toward the numerous lenses. Father would have preferred she smile and speak to them, but then he'd also have preferred she wore a dress and marry someone ten years her senior to secure a lucrative deal. His wishes were no longer her concern.

Her two bodyguards flanked her, Lieutenant and Sergeant Jasper and Cardamom respectively, members of her Specialist unit chosen for the task at hand. Though over-qualified for mere bodyguards, they were perfect for what might well become a dangerous job indeed. For now, they played the part of the former, keeping people away as she made her way through the check-in and out of sight.

"I've new respect for bodyguards," Sergeant Cardamom complained. "And I thought dealing with terrorists was hard. At least I can hit them."

"Will this be a problem, ma'am?" Lieutenant Jasper asked. "Our arrival can't have been missed at this point."

"It would have been noted anyway," she replied. "I marked this down as a holiday but I'm sure the spies within the military will have passed it onto our enemies regardless. It serves us more to play the part than it does to try and sneak in."

They were suspicious either way and with good reason. It wouldn't do to make things worse by poking the Lancer's nest. She and Ironwood had taken to referring to their quarry as `The Organisation` for while they didn't know who they were or what they wanted, they were certainly organised. Enough so that they'd be all too aware of her trip and what it meant.

It would push them to ground, but then she didn't expect to find them easily as it was. Mistral was unknown ground to her, and Saphron's sister had been unable to offer much regarding information when she woke. Only nightmarish tales of the things done to her in the name of Atlas. It was enough to have Winter's fingernails digging into her palms just thinking about it.

Atlas was important, Winter would die for it if she had to, but it was only a Kingdom worth protecting so long as it held true to its beliefs. General Ironwood understood that, which was why she would follow him to whatever end.

They left the airport and made no attempt to hide their hiring of a chauffer to take them to their hotel. It had been booked in advance, allowing for all kinds of action. Bombs, listening devices, traitors amongst the staff. There had to come a point at which jumping at every shadow meant she was too paranoid, but when they just kept being proved _correct_ it was hard to identify it.

They had rented two rooms. Winter switched with her staff, then scanned the room as best she was able. It was ornate and princely, and so it should be with how much it cost, and she only had to remove a single listening device.

"The worst part is I can't tell if you're from the organisation or just the paparazzi…"

It wouldn't be the first time filthy tabloids had left a listening or even recording camera in her or her father's rooms. They didn't even care what they saw. Nudes would sell for just as much as scandal. It was an inevitable and frustrating part of being in the public eye.

A knock came at the door, followed by two more in quick succession.

"Enter."

Lieutenant Jasper let herself in. "Ma'am. I think I've found a lead."

"Already? That's rather swift, even for you."

"I only think, ma'am. Here." Jasper held out a scroll that Winter took and breezed her eyes over. A new report about two huntsmen passing away in an altercation outside the city. Gunshot wounds rather than Grimm, raising the prospect of huntsmen on huntsmen combat. No Kingdom wanted that outside sanctioned tournaments. "Death by gunshot wounds, ma'am, and the timing would tie in with Arc's arrival in Mistral."

_It's just as the General feared,_ she thought. _He's already proving himself capable of murder. Are we too late to stop him?_

Too late to sweep this under the rug as well. There were already rumours in the comments of the wanted criminal from Atlas. The timing was so convenient even the public could piece it together. A wanted murderer from Atlas arrives in Mistral and not two days later, two huntsmen die. It was also possible moles from the organisation were feeding that information out. It would benefit them for the public to assume Jaune Arc was a skilled huntsmen, as that would lead them away from the real answer.

If Mistral got wind of what he was capable of, they'd either want him for themselves or – and more likely – they'd decide that such a power was too dangerous to leave in anyone's hands. Better no one had Null.

_I thought we were hundreds of years past the point where people were burned at the stake for their Semblances…_

"Well done, Lieutenant. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Can you arrange a meeting with the surviving teammates? I realise they may not want to talk about it but feel free to drop my name and rank. I'm sure they'll be upset enough at Atlas to relish a chance to confront me."

"Or to attack you, ma'am. Is this wise?"

"I'm a huntress, Lieutenant. I can handle a few blows."

/-/

Winter's head snapped back. The fist carried through, knuckles bloody as she slammed a foot back to steady herself, rocking on one heel. A grey glove wiped blood from her lip as she stood tall and met the hateful eyes currently being held back by another woman, the first's teammate. Her companions gripped their weapons but had been warned not to intervene.

"I will accept that," Winter said, probing a tooth with her tongue. Her aura had protected her from the worst, but her jaw ached. Such was the strength of a huntress. "You are upset. I recognise that." She drew out a white napkin to dab the rest of the blood away. It was just a split lip, likely where it had been driven back into her own teeth.

"You know, do you?" the woman snapped. "Sarah and Ralph are dead! My teammates who I've known since I was a fucking kid are _dead_ because of Atlas. Because you held back on a bounty's details!"

"Please understand that such was not my choice, Miss Samsara-"

"Don't even start. I'm not here to make friends or accept some PR-friendly bullshit from Atlas. I came to make you bleed and I've done that." Her remaining teammate was holding onto her, all but wrestling her leader back from making a terrible mistake. "I'm done here. Let's go."

"Wait." Winter held a hand out. "At least answer a few questions."

"Why should we? You got our teammates killed. Our friends. Give me one good reason why I should do _anything_ to help you."

"Because it will give us a chance to bring the one responsible to justice."

Wisely, she chose not to say his name. Only to imply it. Jaune Arc would be brought to justice no matter how justified some of his actions may have been, but the main culprit would be the ones behind all this in the first place. Though she could not tell this huntress that, it would still be vengeance for the sake of her fallen teammates, who were dead because of the organisation's secrecy.

"What can we even tell you?" Samsara spat. "We didn't see him."

"How you knew where to find him. What happened."

The visibly trembling woman made to say something only for her teammate to whisper in her ear. Winter couldn't make out what was said but it must have been a request for Samsara clenched her eyes shut, trembled, and then started to calm down. At least, on the outside. Winter doubted she was anything but calm in reality. The woman _stank_ of alcohol and her eyes had been bloodshot. Drinking her grief away, or she'd cried herself hoarse.

"There's nothing to tell," she seethed. "We caught wind of the bounty and decided to intervene. The money was good and the work – we'd been told – was easy." A glare, deserved by Atlas but not she or General Ironwood. "It said White Fang, so we had reason to believe they'd be headed for the coast, but we also knew they'd have to supply somewhere. Mistral seemed obvious. We also knew _he'd_ need to avoid it. Can't exactly walk through the checkpoints, can he? We split up and set two ambushes, one on either side of the city looking for anyone that matched his description coming through."

Standard tactics then. Winter nodded, surprised for a moment that Arc had fallen for it before remembering he was just a boy himself. It was hard to remember that at times. He had no formal training or military experience. He was gaining it, however. The same strategy probably wouldn't work again, which was a shame since they could have used it better.

Or could she? Confident as she was, he could kill all too easily. Before, she'd held to the hope he might hesitate against someone not an enemy, but that had changed. Maybe he'd been pushed to it and maybe he hadn't, but in either case he'd made the choice now. He'd pulled the trigger, and unlike before, he couldn't excuse his actions saying it was to protect his family.

General Ironwood wouldn't be pleased.

"Surely once you saw that he had not come your way, you would have hurried to your teammates."

"Course we did. That's when we ran into trouble of our own."

"White Fang?"

"No. Someone else."

Winter tensed. Had the organisation sent their own huntsmen after them? It seemed more than possible – a fair number would have already been hired, albeit on false pretences like this team. There might be a few loyalists who knew the truth, however. "Describe them."

"Tall. Scruffy. They had dark hair – black or grey – but they wore a full face mask so I couldn't see more. It was like the White Fang, but not quite there. Like someone was doing similar but not the same thing. This one covered the whole head."

"Just one person?"

"Just the one, and he was a guy. Fast, brutal, definitely a huntsman. He handled us all too easily, then dropped us off at the gates of Mistral."

Winter's frown grew. "He didn't kill you?"

"No. I've no idea what to think about that. He wasn't just a traveller," Samsara spat. "It's not like we bumped into him and attacked. He wasn't our target. We saw him, spoke, offered to pass him by and he drew his weapon and came at us."

Not an accident then. "What weapon did he wield?"

"It was a sword but also a gun. Folded back. Mechashift. Even grew a little longer once, like it wanted to be on a polearm. Maybe a glaive."

_Or a scythe_, Winter thought, feeling an awful doubt pile in her gut. Ironwood had spoken to Ozpin and if there was one disreputable buffoon Ozpin all too often relied on, it was Qrow Branwen. _Please don't let him be here,_ she thought. _The man's an idiot at the best of times. I'm not in the mood to deal with his stupid flirting._

It fit, as much as she wished it didn't. The White Fang wouldn't spare two huntresses they'd beaten. They might if they wanted to avoid trouble, but there was no point killing half a team and sparing the other, was there? All that would achieve would be to announce their presence and earn two enemies for life. The organisation wouldn't care to spare them either. Easier to kill them, blame it on Arc and earn yet more reason to hunt him down.

"That's all I have to say," Samsara finished. "We're done with this, done with the bounty and done taking any from Atlas. Make sure you take that back with you. And if I have my way, every other huntsmen in Mistral will know as well!"

That was good as far as she was concerned, but Winter didn't say it. "I understand. I'll convey your message. On your teammates, I know it may be the last thing you want but I-"

"If the next words out of your mouth are about paying for their funerals, take them back or I swear it won't be my first which hits you next."

Winter closed her mouth.

The anger, she didn't fault. Couldn't. As she watched the two huntresses make their way out, she closed her eyes and wished it hadn't come to this. Though Jaune Arc pulled the trigger, Atlas had placed both him in that spot and their teammates against him. More people had died now for Atlas to cover up its actions. This felt more like Jacques covering up the Schnee family's crimes than she cared to admit.

"You shouldn't have let them hit you, ma'am," Cardamom said. "You're not at fault here."

"It was only a light blow. I'm fine." Sighing, she stepped back from the table. The drinks and food she'd ordered for them all had gone unused. Their guests hadn't been in the mood. "Jasper, can you locate me a bar in the nearby area?"

The Lieutenant frowned but drew out her scroll. "The hotel has a bar."

"No. A local bar. The seedier the better…"

/-/

Jaune strained his eyes to make out the signs Adam was pointing out to him. Be it faunus night vision or something else, he couldn't see what the other man did, but that was okay. He trusted Adam to be on point.

"I see it," Blake said. "There's a light between those two rocks. Red, like an LED."

He still couldn't – no, wait, there it was! A flicker if he moved his eyes quickly, and he'd been looking for the bulb. Instead, it was a red glow on one side of a rock, reflected light from something behind. Not obvious, but unnatural if one thought about it. "There's a door in there?" he asked.

"Door, camera or something else. I'm leaning on door myself." Adam grunted and sat down, the other two joining him behind the rock. They were in the middle of a large forested area deep within Mistral, little to speak of the area's importance but for a strange grouping of rocks like a cairn but more likely naturally formed. There were no villages nearby.

The White Fang were camped a good hour back. Adam didn't want to take chances, and to be honest neither did he. The last time had been rushed and the enemy had time to get his family out a back exit they'd not noticed.

"I'm going to scout further around," Adam said. "See if I can't find out what other exits they have. We'll station men at those and shoot down any Bullheads that try to leave. If we do that soon enough, the passengers would be safe."

"Should be…?"

"Will be. It's that or letting them escape."

The Bullhead Lavender had been in crashed down safe. It wouldn't come to it again, he promised. If they went in fast, they'd get everyone out without a problem. The fault last time was on him for getting pinned down in the corridors. If he hadn't had to wait for Blake, he could have made it through in time to save them. His hand touched Mors, running over the chamber where three explosive rounds lay. That wouldn't be a problem anymore. One of those would clear the way.

"I can scout as well," Blake whispered.

"I know." Adam touched a finger to her lips beneath her mask. "But Jaune can't, and we both know if you and I trust him to sit here and do nothing, he'll run into trouble. I'm not leaving you out because I don't trust you, Blake. You're here to keep him out of trouble."

The faunus considered that for a second and nodded, relaxing. As much as he wanted to argue, Adam was probably right. He wouldn't be able to sit back and do nothing knowing two of his family were down there. He was so close. So close he could run in and get them!

Forcing his eyes shut, he sat back.

Taking the time to plan and scout this out would make it work better. He'd only make things worse charging off half-cocked. "I'll stay," he whispered. "I know it's for the best."

"Good. But Blake is still going to watch you."

"I will," she promised, but caught Adam's hand before he could leave. "Are we destroying the facility after?"

"Yes. Whatever research they've done, I think it best no one found. You disagree?"

"No." Blake's eyes slid to Jaune and he knew she was thinking back to when he'd killed those people. "No, I think it's best no one has access to his Semblance. I'm just thinking how we'll pull this all off."

"Same as last time. We'll rush in, locate his siblings and get them out. Once that's done, we'll leave charges inside and detonate them at a safe distance. If it's underground like the last, the ceiling collapsing will deal with any evidence."

"What are we doing to do with everyone inside?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "They can get out however they wish. We'll take what prisoners we can and interrogate them. I'm not talking about a massacre here, Blake. Relax." He held her gaze until she relented. "We'll have to kill those who stand against us but if we're cutting off the escape, we're going to have a lot more prisoners. We'll set those loose. Those of them that are innocent. Not much we can do with that many prisoners out here. They'd only slow us down."

"And we go to the coast after?" Jaune asked.

"We deliver them to the coast, loop back and deal with the business Sienna wants done," Adam confirmed. "And then we head to Menagerie to regroup, let the heat die down and plan our next move. That'll be a chance for you to spend time with your sisters as well."

Perfect. He couldn't wait. Even if it meant leaving half of them still captive, it wasn't like they could trek back across Mistral to reach Vale. The city was probably already in uproar over those huntsmen, while their pursuers from Atlas would be setting up any number of ambushes. It would be slower to go all the way around the other side but travelling by boat to Menagerie and then from Menagerie to Vale was more than doable. Safer too.

The girls wouldn't be happy at the wait, but as Blake said, they wouldn't be genuinely happy until they were free. The important thing wasn't rushing to that recklessly. It was making sure it happened with one hundred per cent certainty.

"Alright. I'm in. And Mors is ready too."

"Good. You'll have plenty of time to test it. Blake." Adam touched her arm. "Are you with us?"

"I-I am. Of course I am. This is the right thing to do."

"Even if it means killing people?"

"I don't mind if it's soldiers fighting back," she whispered. "Just not the…" Her eyes flicked to him. "I won't say innocent, but the non-combatants. They don't deserve to die. Jail yes, but we can't execute them. Not again."

That had only been the one time and he deserved it. He'd touched his sisters! He'd tried to impregnate his mother to raise a child designed for experimentation! That was evil. Pure evil. _Calm,_ he told himself. _Blake isn't wrong to want to reduce bloodshed. As long as we save them, I don't care what happens to these bastards._

"No executions," Adam promised. "Jaune?"

"Y-Yeah." He gritted it out. "I'll not ask for any. Just… Don't expect me not to punch someone if they've hurt my sisters."

Blake smiled, relief shining through. "Punching is fine. I may even hold them down for you. Thank you, both of you. I know this isn't the time for it but I just… let's not become the monsters we're trying to stop, okay?"

"Never apologise for sharing your opinion, Blake. You're my love, not my slave. I will always value what you say."

Blake leaned in suddenly, cupping Adam's cheeks and kissing him. "For good luck," she told him, pulling his mask back down. Adam's smile was slow but far too smug, almost cocky but at the same time sort of bashful. It was a rare and complex smile from an even more complicated man.

"I'll be back soon. We end this tomorrow. Once we've done the job for Sienna we'll go home, take a break, and see the fruits of our labour. That'll be a chance to detox, Blake. For both of us. Just hold on until then."

"I'll hold on, Adam. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

**I'd say foreshadowing but since this is before canon and you all know what happens, yeah…**

**Am I laying it on a bit thick with her? Probably, but this is one of those nebulous areas of canon where I'm not 100% sure what happened. Blake joined the White Fang when it became violent, so I have to assume she was okay with it at one point. My assumption would be a slow escalation where violence once meant minor acts of vandalism and attacking military targets and soon became more.**

**I don't know for sure though and it's hard to write how someone goes from totally okay with it to not. That's not an attack on RT though, since we have **_**real life cases**_** of hardened terrorists turning against their former groups and feeling regret for it. I just don't really have the means to interview them, lol.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 27****th**** April**

**P a treon. Com (slash) Coeur **


	12. Chapter 12

**A bit of a surprise happy announcement today.**

**As people may or may not know, I offer lessons and advice to some of my supporters who want to learn to write, usually in the form of lessons online over Skype and whatnot. I have quite a few students, some of whom are fanfiction writers themselves, some in RWBY and some even in other fandoms.**

**But I'm happy to announce one of my students has just self-published the novel we've been working on together on Amazon, which is available in both paperback and digital format.**

**It's written by him with me helping with lessons, advice and the likes, so please be aware that if you read it, it's ****_his_**** work, not mine. But I'm proud of it nonetheless, and proud of him for taking the step. **

**If you'd like to read or purchase it, you can find it on Amazon (be sure to use com or co uk or whatever it is depending on your region). The author's name is Charles Cackler and the book is called "The Mage Trials (Path of the Magi)". You can easily find it by going to amazon and typing his name in the search bar. **

**If you have Kindle Unlimited, you can read it for free, otherwise it's obviously free to read the first chapter or so. I'd be happy if you'd check it out and see if it's something any of you might be interested in reading. I will say it's different to RWBY obviously. It's an original novel. I'd love to provide a link, but the site doesn't allow it.**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Slow and deep breaths.

It was the only way to calm his nerves before the attack. His feet would tap on the floor otherwise, his body moving to some unknown beat, eyes darting left and right as the sun slowly set. Late evening, the perfect time for a faunus attack. His fingers curled and uncurled around the grip of Mors, the newest heirloom weapon of the Arc family.

Leaves rustled beside them as Adam knelt, one hand gripped to his own weapon as he peered out through his grisly mask. Where the flickering light of the LED had been hard to spot in the midday sun, the unnatural red glow now gave away the location of the entrance. It mattered little. This was lost territory, inhabited only by wild animals and Grimm.

"I've planted a team at the only possible exit point. They have heavy weapons and gun teams. If the hangar doors open, they'll focus on shooting the cockpits to disable the pilots," he explained. "If all goes well, we'll ground them before they can even take off, preventing the need for a rough landing."

The better to protect his sisters of course. Jaune nodded, grateful Adam had them in mind.

"Fitch has a medical tent set up nearby. He's asked for a chance to enter the facility – mostly to steal what medical supplies he can. Depending what state they're in, they may need it. I've given him the all clear. We may as well salvage what we can before we burn the facility down."

"They're bound to signal an alarm once we breach," Blake warned. "We can't stay too long."

"It'll take time for reinforcements to mobilise even if they do. This isn't Atlas. My bigger concern is them expecting us."

"They know we're in Menagerie," Jaune whispered.

"Not exactly hard to pin us as aiming for this place. Even if they're wrong, the assets they want to defend are here so an increased garrison only makes sense. We caught them by surprise the last time. They probably expected you to run and hide. Or if not that, not be able to storm and destroy a testing facility on your own."

He wouldn't have been able to, but then none of this would have happened anyway without the White Fang. It was they who saved him in the first place.

"Keep your wits about you," Adam said. "We could be looking at more men, combat droids or even huntsmen. Don't take any risks. And don't rush," he added. "We've cut off their escape routes. Better we clear the base slowly than run into trouble trying to set a world record."

"Maybe we should stick together this time," Blake said.

"Maybe. Depends on the internal layout." Adam sighed and pushed himself up, motioning for them to do the same. Several White Fang settled into the spot they'd occupied, levelling rifles and other medium-range weaponry on the entryway. With their night vision, they'd have a perfect shot on anyone who tried to leave. "Come. It's time."

Adam, Blake and Jaune skirted around the large boulders toward the entrance. There was no knowing where the cameras were or what they saw – speed was key. Ducking into the crevasse, the metal door became visible, another key card variant like the first. This time, they lacked a guard to steal one from, but Adam knelt by the door, pulling out some sticky foam and a vial of dust.

Dust was the achieve-all product by which the Kingdoms ran. Energy, ammunition and even food spice in some recipes. Its potential was limitless, or so the SDC liked to remind everyone. One thing it was known for however, was its volatility. Refined samples could be made safe for consumers but even that was warned to stay away from fire or sudden shock. Adam tipped unrefined crystals into a glass chamber, stuck it into the foam and placed a small charge beneath it with a remote trigger.

"Back," he warned, suiting action to words and ducking behind the largest rock. Blake and Jaune joined him, Jaune tensing as Adam held out the trigger and pushed the button.

There's a misconception about explosions perpetrated by cinema.

They don't go boom. Or rather, the small ones don't. It's more of a _ripping_ sound, like the sound a match makes when struck but a thousand times louder. Combined with the _thump_ of metal giving way, a screech and a clang not unlike a metal ball being tossed in a washing machine, the door erupted inward, slamming and crashing down a flight of stairs.

All of that in a fraction of a second.

"We're in!" Adam rounded the rock. "Move!"

The smoking doorway led immediately to ten steps moving underground. The corridor was narrow, single-file, and Adam took the lead, Blake behind and him in the rear. The moment it levelled out, it widened too, moving to two people wide and heading straight on until a larger, oval, room. The whirr and clink of machinery was the first warning, Adam's shout the second, and finally the hail of gunfire from a bipedal robot some six feet tall with glossy white metal for skin.

It was a man-shaped and sized machine. It even had hands and arms rather than guns mounted for those, and it grasped an assault rifle that looked for all intents and purposes to be useable by any soldier. As they scattered about the room, it turned to track Adam, while a second appeared and trained its own gun on Blake.

Jaune took the shot given to him.

Sparks flew off the shoulder of the one targeting Adam. He'd been aiming for the head, but it all looked to be the same armour. _Shit. And my Semblance doesn't do jack against robots, does it?_ No aura for him to remove. These guys had planned ahead! He squeezed off two more shots for good measure before giving up on Mors entirely. He could have used the explosives but only had three.

Instead, he charged in.

For anyone, that was a messy proposition, but he banked on his blood and that proved true. The closest robot turned to aim at him but didn't fire. Instead, it raised its weapon up like a club. Of course those bastards wanted him alive. They couldn't experiment on him otherwise! The android slammed the rifle's butt down and Jaune caught it in both hands, grunting as the inhuman strength pushed harder and harder, easily forcing his hands back.

That was fine. "Adam!"

Red metal speared through the thing's faceplate, showering electronics and sparks over him as the android went limp, dropping the rifle. Adam wrenched his blade out from the back of its head and lunged for the second, cutting its legs off at the knees while it continued to try and shoot Blake. It didn't see him coming and came crashing down, dropping its gun in the process. Planting a foot on its back, Adam stabbed down, twisting Wilt to the side to silence it.

"I've not seen those droids before!" Blake said.

"They're better than the standard SDC fare we've faced," Adam replied. "More advanced, too. I'd bet dust they're prototypes from Atlas. Likely what we'll be facing next in the field." He kicked the ruined head of the first away. "I'll have someone collect what we can before we leave but I don't expect we'll get much from it."

"Next-gen Atlas tech not even in use. They're not even _trying_ to pretend they don't have access to every part of the military. Atlas is rotten to the core."

"To the surprise of no one," Adam gritted out. "Keep moving. I doubt this is all we have to face."

The room washed red as a siren began to play.

"_Facility breach. Facility breach. All combat units move to intercept in Sector A."_

The message repeated, interspersed by long wails and flashing red light. Shaking his head, Adam stabbed Wilt through the locked door ahead and ignited his dust, causing the blade to catch on fire and burn bright. It wasn't enough to melt metal, but it easily fried the circuitry on the other side, letting him jimmy the lock open with a few careful twists. The door slid open as he and Jaune pulled it aside. Past it, two corridors split off.

"Same as last time," Adam said. "Are the facilities identical? It would make sense. Standardised layout and building, plus less time letting transfers get lost."

"If so, both routes lead to the hangar eventually."

"But both don't lead to testing lab and cells. We follow what worked last time. I take left, you two right. This time, they won't be able to escape. Better we clear the whole place top to bottom. Go."

/-/

The stool beside his dragged back with a loud scrape. "I thought I'd find you here."

Snooty voice. Arrogant scowl. Sharp eyes. Qrow took them in while his grin widened. Leaning his elbow on the counter, he raised his hand and called out to the barkeep. "Your most pretentious cocktail. Don't skimp on the gold dust either."

"I'm not here to drink."

"Then are you here to strip? I'll be honest. I'd pay." He drew his hand back before hers could spike down on it. Grinning and hiding the motion as sweeping his hair back, he sat up straight and eyed the door. Two goons there. Winter couldn't come to a place like this without guards. "Well, what brings the esteemed and oh so wonderful Winter Schnee out to a shithole like this? Daddy Ironwood not giving you the attention you deserve? Is this your rebellious period?"

"You know why I'm here, Qrow." Winter stopped talking as the barkeep slid a small glass toward her. The cocktail was neon green and flaked with little bits of gold. Qrow almost burst out laughing. Winter dismissively tossed him a wad of lien and sipped at it.

Even her grimace was refined.

"Too strong for you?" he teased.

Glaring, Winter tipped the glass back and downed it all. It wasn't like he hadn't seen a hundred other people do the same, but the fact _she_ could earned a raised eyebrow. He'd half-expected her to be teetotal.

"I'm looking for someone. The same someone you are."

"Now that's a big assumption to make, little miss military."

"Don't play games with me, Qrow."

"Then don't play with fire," he whispered back. "Especially when we don't know who's listening." His hand snatched his own drink, downed it and tossed out some lien. "Your place or mine?"

"I dread to imagine what dive you've found. My place."

"Heh. I'm easy."

Winter snorted as she stood. "I can certainly believe that."

_Heh. Walked right into that one._ As revenge, he grinned and winked at a few other patrons as he followed Winter out, letting them guffaw and make up their own minds as to what they'd be doing. A few catcalls and whistles chased them out. She did a good job at pretending she had no idea what those meant but the stony mask cracked a little. Beneath it, he saw fury.

The two soldiers fell in beside and flanked him, escorting him back to a fancy hotel he wouldn't be caught dead wasting money on. The bellboys looked at him dismissively and had he not been with Winter, they'd have tried to escort him out. The golden elevator whirred as they went up to the penthouse.

"Nice place. Real homey…"

"The room has been checked and cleared of listening devices."

"Goodie. Guess that means you can scream my name as loud as you want, princess."

The doors dinged open and Winter stormed out with an indignant huff. The butt of a rifle touched his back to urge him on. Qrow shot a look back over one shoulder, the message clear. If he really wanted to, they couldn't push him anywhere.

"Well, it's nice to see that taxpayer money being spent wisely," he said, running a hand over the mahogany furniture. The room was big. Big enough to fit six typical hotel rooms in.

"This isn't taxpayer funded. Nor is the trip. I am on holiday."

"Huh." So _that_ was how Ironwood got around this. Clever. "Got to say, princess, your idea of a fun holiday needs work."

"I agree completely. After all, I'm standing in your presence."

Ooh. Snipe. Someone wasn't in a good mood today, not that she ever was when it came to him. Ozpin called it flirting but it was more her being an overprotective goon to Ironwood, who Qrow liked to mock at every given opportunity. The man himself never rose to it but Winter had a short fuse where the General was concerned.

"Let's get down to business."

Qrow's jacket hit the floor. He popped his belt buckle.

"I _will_ stab you, Branwen."

Chuckling, he fell back on a chair, dropping the charade. Mockery was fun unto a point, but his heart wasn't really in it. He'd been playing along to distract himself. "Alright. Alright. The kid, huh? Didn't expect Jimmy to send you out here on your own. You realise he's dangerous, right?"

Winter frowned. "I'm capable."

"No. You're not." Leaning forward, he pointed a finger at her. "You're not. I'm not. And Samsara's team certainly wasn't. Professional huntsmen, Winter. Bounty hunters. Even _I'd_ not want to tangle with all four of them at once and the kid took out two like spiders on a bedroom floor. Fifteen years of training and combat experience." He snapped his fingers. "Gone in the blink of an eye."

"You sound scared."

"I am." He leant an elbow on the armrest and his chin atop his hand. "You would be too if you'd seen what he can do. I felt it. I experienced it."

"You approached him!? Why didn't you try and arrest him?"

"And what? Bring him back to Atlas?"

"No. To me. To Ironwood. We're hunting those responsible-"

"And you're still beholden to them. Let's not waste words, Winter. You capture Arc and he's disappearing within a week. Either dead or back to the facility that held him. You and Jimmy may have your hearts in the right place, but you're soldiers. You follow orders. It's what you do."

"We're not mindless drones."

"No. But you're part of a greater whole. And last I checked, Ironwood holds _two_ seats on the Council. How many do you think these guys will have bribed, blackmailed or forced under their control? More than two, that's for sure." If their reach went as far as Ozpin suspected, they'd have everyone else under their sway. Or at least enough to force a vote whichever way they wanted. "These people don't play by the rules. Long as you and Jimmy do, you'll never best them."

"Those rules are _laws_, Qrow. And in breaking them we would become just as bad as those we aim to stop!"

"Then don't." He waved a hand. "Sit on your high horse. Follow the laws. Try, but don't change anything. Fail, but tell yourself it's fine because you gave it your all. Because you kept your hands clean and didn't fall to their level, even if by doing that you condemn however many innocent people to being nothing more than lab rats."

Winter's hands clenched into fists. Her teeth flashed as she snarled out, "I am not in the mood for your _banter_. I will find him with or without your assistance."

"And when you do…?"

"I will…" Winter closed her eyes. "I will talk to him. I will explain our side of the argument and what I and General Ironwood have been doing to make amends. I will inform him that we have saved one of his sisters and are protecting his other. I will offer him the chance to join us in locating and freeing the others."

Huh. It was a good offer. The best the kid could get.

Sadly, it wouldn't be enough.

"I think you're forgetting one thing, princess."

Winter's eyes narrowed at the name. "And that is?"

"Atlas killed his father, kidnapped his family, tore them apart and experimented on them." Qrow leaned forward. "And it took the _White Fang_ to save him. As far as he's concerned your word is worth shit. You go in dressed like that-" He nodded to her Atlas uniform. "-and he won't wait to hear what you say. He'll kill you. And trust me, it wouldn't be a difficult task for him. He could have killed me back then."

The silence dragged. Qrow stared down at the floor, more haunted than he cared to admit.

"What was it like?" she eventually asked in a quiet voice.

"Like a ghost walked over my grave. That's the best way I can describe it. You don't realise aura is there because we're all used to it, but you can sure as hell feel it being pulled away. It's a chill. A shiver. You can't pinpoint it, but you feel your stomach drop and you just _know_ you're in trouble. It's not something I'd have noticed in the middle of a battle, but just sitting there…? I've never felt so weak." He hunched on the chair, hands linking between his knees. "I don't want to experience that again."

"He's just a boy, Qrow…"

"Is he? Children are only children so long as they're given the chance to be. I didn't see a boy when I spoke to him. I saw a cornered animal, one that would rather go down fighting than be put in a cage again."

"Does that mean you won't help me?"

"No." Oz wouldn't forgive him if he did, and Qrow wasn't sure he'd forgive himself. Besides, it wasn't the first time he'd done something he didn't want to. That was what being a huntsman meant. The kid also had missing family in Vale, and he didn't want the girls anywhere near him. "I'll help. I'm just making it clear because you and Ironwood seem to be living in a fantasy world where he realises the error of his ways and joins you in overthrowing the big, bad villains."

"That's not a fantasy," she said slowly. "We're trying our best."

"I know. That's the fantasy." Qrow stood. His smile was lopsided. "That `your best` will be enough to stop these people willing of breaking every law in existence. Or maybe the fantasy is that it's your best at all, when you're not willing to bend the rules. He is, and that's gonna be a problem. Especially if he keeps getting better at it."

"Laws exist for a reason, Qrow."

And _that_ reasoning was why he knew this was going to be a disaster.

/-/

A bullet pinged off Jaune's aura. He shot back, eyes flickering through multiple colours as the man fell screaming, clutching his shoulder and the hole ripped through it. Stepping past him, he kicked the man's weapon away and left him behind.

It was the best he could do.

The first enemy he'd come across, he'd tried to disable as kindly as he could. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was to prove to Blake he could, or to himself, or even to try and hold onto some part of his humanity.

Either way, it hadn't worked.

The soldiers were trained better than he was. He'd closed the distance and almost been overpowered for it, grappled down and pinned until he managed to surprise the bastard and press the butt of Mors against his leg, slicing into it and crippling the soldier. Even then, they'd grappled and wrestled until he'd gotten the barrel against his stomach and fired twice to kill him. _Huntsmen_ could afford to disarm people. It had become painfully apparent he was no huntsman and likely never would be.

That encounter stole minutes from him. Since then, he shot first.

Ironically, it left more living people behind than trying to disarm them did. "Patch yourself up," he muttered to the soldier gasping on the floor. "Surrender to the White Fang and you'll be spared."

"F-Fuck you," the man rasped.

What right did he have to be the indignant one? This wasn't some military base he'd been sent to without reason. These were hidden facilities and every guard here would know that. They knew they weren't working for Atlas but for the group who took him prisoner, which also meant they knew what was happening to the subjects here. The victims.

Monsters. All of them.

Jaune moved on, eyes burning. The red glow of the alarms washed over him, casting bright light on the bloodstains spattered up and down his White Fang uniform. Without stopping, he reloaded Mors, sliding rounds into the discharged magazine one at a time. Like the last time, Blake had split for the cell block. The base was almost identical. Standard design, most likely.

He could have made for the labs himself, but the memory of the hangar still haunted him. Amber screaming his name and him failing to save her. _Cut off their escape first and then come back. They can't escape this time._

The white-metal floor clanged underfoot. Turning another corridor, he came onto a second open room, this one converted into an office. Cubicles and desks filled it, pushed aside from a central walkway. Chairs were overturned, suggesting they'd been working the second he and the White Fang attacked.

_They must have a bunker down here. Unless they're running to the hangar._

Knowing they were trapped anyway, he moved over to one of the desks and peered over the low cubicle. There was a desk with a computer terminal on it, along with several plastic files filled with paper. Picking one out at random didn't yield much. It was medical information he couldn't really make out with any certainty.

There was a logo at the top however, the symbol of Atlas – but now that he looked closer, it had another symbol on top of it, a sword and shield on either side of the vertical staff, inside the cogwheel. Beneath the altered logo was a name.

_Chivalric Arms._

"Is that their name?" he asked aloud. It didn't ring any bells, but it wasn't like he knew anything about companies in Atlas. "A lead for later. I'll tell Adam once we're done here."

Pushing the paper into his pocket, he drew back from the desk and pushed on, down the next corridor and through another pass. In the distance, he could hear gunshots and the occasional explosion over the repeating message and the siren. Adam and Blake were busy.

The second he turned the next corner, he found himself looking down a corridor toward a man knelt in the centre of a round room flanked by soldiers.

They didn't open fire.

Jaune held no such compunction and fired twice. The first missed but the second hit the man dead on, sparking off aura. He looked up, smiled and cocked his head to the side challengingly.

A huntsman.

The man had short greying hair cut into curtains, a narrow face and a cocky smile. Dressed in the same uniform as the other soldiers in the facility but with no helmet, he also wore a lab coat over the top. Cracking his neck to the side, he drew a long metal rod. Lightning crackled over it.

"Welcome Subject 000. It's always good to see a specimen come home."

The soldiers raised their weapons, but the man stood, holding up a hand. They stopped suddenly, exchanging nervous looks but not firing.

"Shooting him won't do much." His hand flicked to the side. "Back up to the walls."

The soldiers moved back, creating a wide space between Jaune and the huntsman. He also stepped back, welcoming Jaune into the room with open arms. It was empty but for them, no furniture in place. A killing zone. From memory, this ought to be the last room before the hangar. _He's buying time for them to escape with my sisters._

He either didn't know the place was surrounded or assumed the soldiers could break out. They might be able to if they had more huntsmen. With that in mind, he couldn't retreat lest this guy clear out the White Fang.

Jaune stepped slowly into the room, keeping Mors trained on the huntsman.

"Surrender and you'll be taken alive," he said. "The White Fang will spare your lives and we can go our merry way. I just want my sisters."

He didn't expect the huntsman to give up, but he thought the soldiers might. They were regular people and they knew what he could do. They knew their lives could be snuffed out with a single instance of his Semblance. They didn't flinch, though. They stood stock still, weapons trained on him but not firing.

Something was wrong.

"I'll offer that back to you, Subject 000. Surrender and re-join us and all this unpleasantness shall be forgotten."

Bitter rage tore through him. "I have a name!"

"No. You were _given_ a name. A parent picks it but not always, and that's all it is – a moniker given at birth by someone who feels they have the authority to make it. It can be changed just as easily. As your new guardians, we have chosen to rename you along with your siblings. You are Subject 000. That is your name now, your designation, and all you need know."

"I'm not going back."

The man's smile faded. "No, you are," he replied. "The only difference is whether you do so willingly…" His form shimmered. Jaune gasped as the man – without taking a step – appeared behind him. "Or through force."

The baton touched his back and electricity arched down it. Jaune screamed as his muscles locked up, only just forcing himself to roll forward and onto one knee. Tearing the gun behind him, he found himself looking back down the empty corridor.

"Behind you."

A foot caught his jaw and sent him reeling. Mid-fall, he snapped Mors out and shot, but the man was already gone. It wasn't speed or an illusion. The man hadn't moved his feet or a muscle, and both times he'd interacted with something.

_A teleporter? It must be his Semblance. Short range by the looks of it._

This time, he threw himself left, rolling away as the huntsman swung the baton down on the spot he'd occupied. _Behind,_ he thought. _He always comes from behind._ Either that was the limitation, or just a choice on the huntsman's part. Either was possible. And deadly. It was a scary Semblance that would always let him have the edge, always let him get the drop.

But _his_ was scarier.

Colour flooded his eyes.

"NOW!" the huntsman roared.

The soldiers opened fire. It was the warning that saved him. The second the huntsman shouted, Jaune panicked and let go – aura flooding back in time to prevent the sharp needles of the tranquiliser darts piercing flesh. They bent and snapped over his body, tinkling down in a rain of glass. The soldiers quickly reloaded, snapping fresh darts in but holding fire.

They knew it wouldn't pierce.

A shock baton struck the back of his knees, driving him down onto one. "Arghhh!"

Mors swept around and fired. The Huntsman blocked each short with his aura, hopping back with his smile in place once again. "So arrogant of you, Subject 000. We're the ones who know you best. We tested you quite thoroughly. Did you think we wouldn't have a way around your Semblance?"

Jaune gasped and panted for air, pushing himself up shakily. The muscles in his right leg kept cramping and spasming as the last traces of electricity trickled through him. The exterior damage was low thanks to his aura but the shock, that still dug deep. _Aura doesn't prevent the electricity affecting me,_ he realised. _And I can't use Null or the soldiers open fire._

The droids weren't the trap for him. This was.

"What will you do now, Subject? You cannot use Null without opening your body to our darts, and you cannot best a trained huntsman in combat. I offer you the chance again to surrender. Once we've located your absent siblings again, we can begin testing anew."

"Never! They're safe." He snarled at the man. "Safe from all of you."

"Hmm. Is that so? We'll have to test that theory. Our reach isn't limited only to Atlas. It's been a while since I went on a proper hunt..."

Menagerie was an independent Kingdom but a small one. The White Fang would never willingly allow these people there, but who was to say some couldn't be bribed? A kidnapping. Ilia would try her best, but could she be everywhere?

_It doesn't matter._ Groaning, he stood again. _Because I won't let it happen._

"You're inhuman. A monster. Huntsmen hunt Grimm, not people!"

"Do they?" The man chuckled. "First I've heard. You must remember though that you are not `people`. You are assets. You belong to us, and through us, Atlas. Am I inhuman for enabling this? No less so than a soldier who kills in defence of his Kingdom." He whipped the baton out to the side, making it extend and spark with blue lightning. "A huntsman defends humanity. Atlas is the pinnacle, the height, of humanity. Nothing great is earned without sacrifice, Subject 000. Remember that."

Spitting on the floor, Jaune rose to one knee. "I'll keep it in mind when I kill you."

"Still going to fight? Ah. I suppose you can't comprehend your own defeat. Very well. Let's end this farce."

"Yes." Jaune clicked the second trigger, listening to the faint mechanical whirr and clink as a single round was forced into Mors' chamber. "Let's do so." He aimed the gun at the man, not even flinching when he disappeared in a flash. The barrel rose upward, aiming at the centre of the room as he pulled the trigger.

The dust round looked like any other Felt like it too. It shot out and impacted the ceiling at an angle, but instead of ricocheting off, it exploded with a furious _roar_ of flame. The metal ceiling was torn open, and all the soil, rock and dirt piled up high atop it pushed down, causing the rip to balloon further open and spill rubble everywhere. The whole room shook as the heavy rocks slammed down, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and soil. With more raining down and blown in every direction, the wall of brown soil washed over them like a tidal wave.

The soldiers coughed and hacked, flinching back and turning their faces away, some even knocked to their feet by the impact. For the barest of moments, they flinched from shock or to avoid the blast, taking cover as the ceiling collapsed.

"NO!" the huntsman roared. "GUNS ON HIM! DON'T TAKE YOUR EYES OFF HIM!"

"Too late."

Colours rushed up to his eyes as he snapped his hand back and fired without looking. He knew where the man was, and since he'd placed his back to the narrow corridor, there was no dodging, no misjudging. Two bullets impacted flesh and those told him to unload more. He kept firing until he heard the bullets ping against metal, telling him his quarry was no longer standing.

Only then did he look back, feeling oddly satisfied to see the smug man flat out on his back, hands clutched to his stomach in a futile effort to stifle all the blood rushing out of him. They hadn't been accurate shots by any means. They did the job. He wasn't a medic like Fitch, but that many holes in a person had to be fatal. As Null slid back and his blue eyes returned, the huntsman's aura did as well. Far, far too late to save him.

He heard weaponry being placed on the ground. The soldiers were disarming themselves, some falling to their knees with hands over their heads and others standing still, hands out and empty. With no chance of his aura dropping now, their tranquiliser rifles were useless.

"Ack!" The huntsman choked on blood. "Do – Do you think this changes anything, Subject? I'm but one man. O-One cog in the machine. They know who you are, where you are, what you can do." He laughed, blood running down his lips. "And they're watching this. They can see everything and you – you are nothing more than a specimen! You're nothing! Atlas – Atlas is eternal. And your blood will b-become a part of that." The huntsman sneered, anger burning in his eyes. "You have _no idea_ what you are challenging."

His eyes rose to the camera in the corner of the room. Those far away in Atlas would be watching if the huntsman was to be believed. Watching and learning. The little light on the side of it blinked red as he stood before the surrendered soldiers and the dead huntsman.

"Neither do you," Jaune replied, both to the huntsman and his employers. Jaune pointed the gun down, face resolute. "And my name isn't _Subject._"

Mors barked once. The man's legs kicked, and then he went still.

"It's Null."

* * *

**Killing becoming easier and easier for Jaune, especially when his enemies do such a good job of playing the bad guys. **

**If you're interested in checking out the book my student made, I can't write the link here. I can't even do it with spaces, etc, because it's not a simple link but one with tonnes of random code and letters in it, etc.**

**THAT SAID, if you go directly to Amazon and type "Charles Cackler" in the search bar, it comes up straight away. I hope you'll give the first chapter (the free one) a look through, but you should buy or not depending on whether you like it, not because I say so.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 4****th**** May**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	13. Chapter 13

**Here we go**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

* * *

It occurred to him that he didn't even know the name of the huntsman he'd just killed. Staring down at his body, the man evoked no sympathy or regret. That twisted smile and the mocking way he'd spoken about him and his family saw to that. Kneeling, he placed two fingers to the man's neck to be sure. It wouldn't do for him to jump back up and attack from behind.

Dead. Very dead.

Turning, Jaune narrowed his eyes on the various soldiers. "Who is in charge here?"

They all looked to the dead huntsman.

"Who would be in charge _now_?"

One of them stepped forward, hands on his helmet. "That would be me, sir."

Sir. Their tune sure changed quick. He'd promised Blake to take prisoners and yet looking at them now, he wasn't sure how to go about that. They had no prisons, no cuffs and no time to escort them back out. If he left them alone and they regained their nerve, they could lay an ambush. That might not hurt him, Blake or Adam, but it could catch one of his rescued sisters.

_I don't have time for this._

"Do you have cuffs?" he snapped at the man. "Ties, restraints, anything like that?"

"I have restraining links on my belt. Left side. Behind my sidearm." The soldier made no attempt to reach for it but did shift his body to the side, jutting out his hip to show the metal object hanging from the back of his belt. "They're for escaped su- victims."

Subjects. Jaune bit back a hiss. "Tie up your fellows. All of you. Now. You can put your hands down or whatever. It's not like reaching for a gun will help you."

The soldiers moved slowly at first, afraid to startle him, but once it was clear how impatient he was, they each started to restrain one another, securing hands behind their backs. Those in charge tied up their subordinates first, before turning and helping one another until it was only the man who first spoke remaining.

He silently offered the links to Jaune, turned around and held his wrists behind him. He stood in silence until Jaune had secured it, then tensed his wrists to show he couldn't escape. The soldiers knelt by a wall, leaning against it with their weapons in the centre of the room. Few of them looked him in the eye.

Jaune stopped the leader from joining them. "Where are my sisters?"

"Testing labs, sir. Sensors caught the ambush at the hangar doors and the order was given to retreat and barricade. Labs are that way." He nodded to a door marked as such. That explained why the huntsman had ambushed him here. "I don't know what defences are set up. I _do_ know both the girls were alive and well when they were taken through."

Trying to save his own skin. "And how long ago was that?"

"Ten minutes, sir. Maybe fifteen."

Jaune let the man go, pushing him back to his fellows. The doorway to the labs called to him but there was no rush for once. Retreat and barricade. The scientists intended to make a last stand. What if they got desperate and tried to hurt one of the girls? The main group in Atlas – this _Chivalric Arms_ – wouldn't appreciate their test subjects being hurt, but how much would a person cornered with their life on the line really care?

Clipping Mors back onto his belt, he drew out his scroll.

/-/

"Hangar is secure," Adam reported as he came through the door, Wilt dripping blood. The faunus' clothes were similarly coated, with small streaks of black and holes where bullets had found their way through. He eyed Jaune, the dead man and finally the prisoners, humming under his mask. "You did well to call this in. Better we breach this together. Where is-" Another door opened and Blake came through. "Ah, there she is. You're late, my love."

"I'm – ah!" Blake flinched as she nearly stepped on the dead huntsman. Cautiously, she skirted around him, taking in the prisoners as she did. The tension visibly drained from her, eyes flicking to his with clear gratitude. "I assume he was too dangerous?" she asked. For once it wasn't judgmental, more curious.

"Huntsman. He could teleport small distances and always attacked from behind."

"Powerful Semblance," she said. "Probably best to put him down, especially if he could teleport out of restraints." It was as close to a `I accept this` as he was going to get from her, and he nodded back.

It did feel good, leaving some alive. It wasn't like he'd been a walking bloodbath the last time – that was all Adam – but he'd harboured thoughts of killing everyone even tangentially involved with this. How could he not? After what he'd been through, the very thought of them brought back sickening memories of needles and knives, tests and toneless voices. Men in white suits who poked and prodded like he was an interesting insect.

Tearing himself back, he turned to the door. "One of the captives said they're being kept in the lab block. The guards are barricading themselves in." He nodded to Adam. "They detected the White Fang setting up outside the hangar."

"Hm. That's fine. Their job was to prevent anyone escaping. Whether they were noticed or not doesn't change the fact it worked." Adam flicked Wilt out. "I'll take the lead with you beside me. Blake, follow and be stealthy. We'll need you if a hostage situation arrives. You're our best shot."

"Okay. Do you want me to shoot first or let you negotiate?"

Adam knew it was a test as much as he did. "I'll try and negotiate," he grumbled.

"Thank you."

Adam approached the door and waved Jaune in, clicking the button and falling to the side. No barrage came and they slid in together. The lights inside were on. They knew faunus were attacking and would only have the edge in darkness. The corridor was wider than the ones before it, easily four or five people's width. _It's for medical trolleys¸ _he thought, gripping Mors with a shaky hand. The corridor rode up ahead to a T-junction, with glass panelled offices on either side. The glass bore the same frosted logo from the office block back a ways.

"I found some paperwork," he whispered. "Said they were `Chivalric Arms`. The name ring a bell?"

"Arms manufacturer," Adam replied, voice equally low. "Based in Atlas. Subsidised by Atlas, but privately owned. They're the ones behind the robotic droids the military and SDC use."

"I thought those were made by the army?"

"They are, but someone has to design and prototype them first. They sell their designs on, though from what I understand, they're linked to Atlas. No other Kingdom gets the designs. Patriotism and all that. They also design and work on guns and armour. Not vehicles, though. That's another company. Or companies."

"I think they're the ones behind all this."

"Likely. I'm sure they'll deny it. Let's focus on your family first. Sienna will love the chance to help you hit Atlas' biggest supplier of weaponry. Stick with us and we'll see it done."

He hadn't meant it like that. Or had he? Did he want to go on a personal assault against those people? A part of him thought so. _Guilty as everyone here is, I bet those in charge of the company are the ones to order my family's kidnapping._ His eyes narrowed, blood rushing faster and faster. They might have to be dealt with in the long term anyway, lest they keep coming back for more.

The glass rooms they passed were filled with medical beds and equipment. He knew them from his own lab, being dragged to and from one or the other. Sometimes to draw blood, other times when his body started to give up and they had to pump him full of chemicals and food. They were all empty now, but one or two were unkempt, like they'd been recently in use.

Adam motioned right and then left as they approached the T-junction. Jaune nodded and slid to the right wall. It gave him a small ability to see the left passage before turning the corner, enough to see no one waiting immediately around it. What he _did_ see was a large pile of filing cabinets and upturned equipment blocking the way. "Left is blocked," he reported.

"Right is clear," Adam said, peeking out. "Well, that's our barricade."

"Do we break through it? Shouldn't take long."

"No. They left the right open so that's where the ambush is. We'll spring it." Jaune shot him an obviously confused look and Adam explained. "If we ignore it, we move ahead leaving enemies behind us, ether to close a pincer, cut off our escape or seal the facility."

The next corridor was taken in silence and without incident. There were no ambushes, firing lines or defended positions. He'd expected them; it was that the word `barricaded` meant in his mind, and yet the soldiers had fallen all the way back. Signs on the walls told them they were approaching the lab block soon. Almost upon it. From there, the same testing chambers he'd been shoved into would be within reach.

The final corner gave way to a large double door, the kind that could be opened with a push or by driving a medical trolley into it. The frosted round windows were too translucent to see through. Adam motioned for him to stay at the corner and crept forward himself, pushing his back against one wall and using the butt of Blush to tease the opposite door open.

Metal splintered out as a single high-piercing dust round punched through the centre of that door, where a person's body might be if they opened it naturally. Not a second later, a second punched through the other, whistling past Adam and striking the back wall Jaune was close to with a shower of sparks. Adam slid back from it, held up an imaginary gun and then tapped blush on the doors again, miming to fire.

Jaune nodded, slid Mors free and injected his second explosive round. Adam bunched his legs and knelt, Wilt drawn and held out tip to the floor. Raising his other hand, he motioned to the door quickly.

He squeezed the trigger.

The metal doors _imploded_ as the blast struck, ripping fire through the air and launching the doors in toward the lab with a billow of smoke and an almighty crack that would have sent anyone inside scrambling for cover. Adam was in during that, dashing through the smoke. Automatic fire opened up, the staccato sound deafening in the echoing corridor. Along with the screams.

Chasing up himself, Jaune ran through the smoke and instantly dove right. No shots came – Adam had gone for the snipers first – but he was able to take in the room at a glance. Eight soldiers, two down and one struggling – no, he was down as well. One stood at a back corridor shouting something to others further in. Jaune fired on him, clipping the man's arm before rolling behind an upturned metal table. He'd been aiming for the head, but his accuracy wasn't what it could be.

Bullets pinged off his table as the soldiers took note of him. Jaune crouched behind it and counted in his head, listening for the sound of Adam dispatching his foe and attacking those now distracted. They'd have done well to focus on the far bigger threat the faunus was. By the time he crawled out from cover, all the soldiers were down except for the one he'd caught in the arm, who was retreating past some medical equipment, slamming a fire door behind him.

"Let him go," Adam said.

"Why? He could-"

"I've found your sisters."

Jaune was at his side immediately. One wall of the room was made up entirely of glass, looking down into a large, square chamber made of metal, within which stood four final soldiers, eight scientists and two girls, one strapped to a trolley and one over a soldier's shoulder.

"Jade! Hazel!"

The lab they'd broken into was the one that overlooked the testing facility below. A direct reversal on when Adam and Blake first rescued him, except now with the facility's staff in the chamber and them in the viewing room. The door the soldier had fled through must have led to the staircase down to the large metal doors leading into the chamber. Adam indicated a microphone and a red button next to it. Pressing it, he leaned in to speak into the mic.

"You're surrounded and your soldiers have been dealt with. Surrender."

As one, those within the chamber looked up to the windows. It was hard to make out any specific reaction, other than the soldiers aiming their weapons upwards, but one of the scientists whispered something to another and stepped forward.

"_I am Technical Director Raymond_," he announced, loud and clear. The sound travelled easily to the room, so easily that Jaune knew it had to be transmitted by microphones in the chamber to speakers in the viewing lab. _"I am prepared to discuss terms for our safe evacuation from the premises."_

"Terms?" Jaune snapped. "Tell him to give my sisters up!"

Adam waved him quiet. Blake pulled him away, having come in when she heard the ruckus. Holding a finger over her lips, she indicated Adam, telling him silently to trust the leader of their White Fang sect. Jaune nodded back, standing tense and rigid against Blake.

"I'm prepared to allow this," Adam said. "You will be allowed to leave the facility with limited armaments, with an assurance of no intervention by the White Fang, on the condition that you give up your prisoners."

Jaune smiled eagerly.

"_I'm afraid that isn't acceptable. We will trade you one of the subjects for the terms you mentioned."_

Terror clenched Jaune's gut but Adam didn't accept the deal, "You're not in a position to make those kinds of demands. Surrender them both or I'll come take them myself. You're completely trapped. The facility belongs to us now."

"_We have time on our side,"_ the man said. _"Your attack was announced, and reinforcements are en route. That door will buy us time, and should you try to break the glass, I shall execute Subject 004."_ He drew a handgun and pressed it to the temple of an unconscious Jade Arc, strapped to a bed.

Jaune wrenched his way out of Blake's hands. "NO!"

"Kill her and we will slaughter you to a man!" Adam barked through the microphone. "Not one of you shall survive!"

The scientist held the gun firm. _"Then we should negotiate terms, no? Subject 004 has unlocked a Semblance of no use to us. Therefore, her viability to the Null Project is terminated. Subject 005 however-"_ He tapped Hazel's leg, the girl flung over the shoulder of a soldier, _"-still has potential. I am offering to let you have the useless one in return for our escape with the final in tow."_

"If she unlocked the same Semblance Lavender did, they may well kill her," Blake whispered. "They were prepared to do it before; they only care about the Null Semblance."

Adam scowled against the microphone, fingers gripping the edge of the console.

"_It's a generous offer. Subject 000 – who I can only assume is up there with you – gets one of his siblings back and we escape. The alternative, of course, is that you come and attack us directly. If I'm to die, I shall spite you before I go, killing them both. Those are our terms. You can secure one of them or neither of them. Or you can delay, and I shall await our rescue when the teams come to reclaim the facility."_

Jaune slammed a fist into the closest wall, visibly shaken. Those bastards. Those damn bastards!

Closing his eyes, Adam leaned forward. "I accept your terms."

/-/

The specifics took a few more minutes to hash out.

The facility staff would need to pass by them to leave and doing so in the enclosed environment was a recipe for a double cross. In the end, Jaune and Blake would press their backs to the glass and remain there, and three of the soldiers would come up from the testing chamber first to watch them. They couldn't stop them if they betrayed the deal, but the moment's gunfire would tell the scientists to execute the prisoners.

"All clear, Director!" one of them called down.

"Good! Good!" The man that strode up was somehow slimier up close. Wiry black hair drawn back into a ponytail, pock marked skin and a sallow complexion. He had had layers of wrinkled skin sagging down from his chin and a smile that was too wide for his face. The fourth and final soldier came with him still carrying Hazel, while another of the scientists pushed the trolley with Jade unconscious on it. "I'm pleased to see the White Fang can be so… reasonable."

"We negotiate in faith," Adam said coldly.

"Oh, I'm sure. I'm sure. Only, Atlas does not negotiate with terrorists, does it? Ah, a shame. So much can be achieved if people only listen." He chuckled loudly. "And there you are, Subject 000. Hm. I never had a chance to work on you myself, but I've read your records, yes I have. Do you know I earned a promotion when you killed my predecessor? You have my thanks for that. He always was a sickening man to answer to."

Jaune committed the man's face to memory.

"No words? Hmm. That's fine." He chuckled again. "Well then, let's get this underway, shall we? We shall take Subject 005 unto the corridor first and you will let us go. Our men shall stay behind with Subject 004, leaving her in the doorway to block it."

"If you hurt her-" Jaune snapped.

"Then you shall have no need to help her, shall you? I imagine you would come screaming after me. Oh no, no, you may have her alive and well – and don't worry, she's quite healthy, simply anaesthetised. They're quite the rebellious pair. Either way, she's quite useless to me now. And who knows, perhaps free to grow and procreate, she shall provide more viable subjects in the future. Now isn't _that_ something to consider. Jnr Doctor Scott, do be a dear and take Subject 005 away now. Yes, that's it – do mind her head on the walls, you imbecile. Her wellbeing is worth more than your life. More than all our lives."

Adam held a hand out over Jaune's chest, holding him back as Hazel was taken out of the room and away. The effort required to not chase after her was immense, but the Director still had the gun out and to Jade's temple. As a threat to their safety, the sidearm meant so little, but to her, helpless and unconscious, it was a death sentence.

"We've held our side of the bargain," Adam pointed out.

"You have. You have. And I shall hold mine." He edged toward the corridor, leaving the soldiers behind. As he left, he shouted out, "Brace the corridor with her trolley, gentlemen, and catch up. Don't harm her. That shall only upset our guests."

The soldiers remained silent, all too aware they were in the most danger being left behind to complete the deal. Two of them backed up with guns trained on Jade, while the latter wheeled her to the corridor and turned the bed side-on, blocking it to buy themselves a little time. Adam and Blake circled around, staying in the soldier's vision but coming to take hold of Jade's bed while the three of them quickly hurried down the corridor.

The second it was safe, Adam wrenched the bed out the way. Jaune was there a moment later, huddled over his sister. "Jade! Oh hell." He touched her neck. "Alive!" He unstrapped her and pulled her up over one shoulder. "I know it's not comfortable. You can kick my ass once we get out of here."

"We'll have to leave quickly," Adam said. "Blake and I shall take the lead. I'll radio to the White Fang watching the hangar. That's where they're going. They're not out yet, and they're down a hostage. We'll see if we can't catch them before they esca-"

An explosion rocked the facility, causing the room to shake and some dust to fall from the ceiling. It was followed by another, and then a burst of gunfire in the distance. Protracted gunfire, and by the sounds of it, from outside.

"Damn it!" Adam roared, rushing to the corridor. "How are their reinforcements here so fast?"

"We need to catch the Director before he gets Hazel out!" Blake said, chasing Adam down the corridor with Jaune behind. There was still time, even if the new enemies hit the hangar first. The group with Hazel would have broke into a run but they still had to carry her, and they weren't as fast as Adam or Blake.

The deal had only been to let them out the chamber – not to let them escape.

Gunfire ahead.

Close.

Frighteningly close.

The three of them rounded the corner in time to see Technical Director Raymond strike the floor, the upper half of his body torn open. He splashed down into a puddle of blood, collapsing atop the bodies of his own scientists. Crouched over a similar pile of the solider bodies, a figure armoured in black carapace with a helmet covering the upper half of his face and a gasmask over the lower. He had a hand to the neck of Hazel.

"**Subject acquired."** The voice came out tinny and modulated through the gasmask.** "Beginning extraction**."

Blake swore loudly. "The hell…?"

"**Targets sighted**," a second soldier in full black droned, coming in from the side. A third flanked him with a bulky weapon. "**Subject 000 sighted. Moving to neutralise. Lethal force aurhotised for non-essential personnel**."

The third soldier opened fire before they could move, not even taking the time to aim. A large canister sailed into the corridor and exploded in the air, belching out thick white smoke. It splashed and wafted over the walls, sinking down heavier than air.

"Gas!" Adam roared, plunging through. "Kill them quickly!"

Jaune hacked and coughed, covering his mouth with one hand and pushing through. A second canister exploded in the smoke and it became thicker still, making his eyes water. He could only hope it wouldn't hurt Jade, hung over his shoulder.

Coming through on the other side, he had the time to see Adam force the man trying to pick Hazel up back, allowing Blake to swoop in and drag her away by her shoulders. Adam kicked the man away, knelt low, drew Wilt and slashed upward in a fraction of a second.

The soldier blocked it with his rifle, twisting the weapon sideways faster than Jaune could process.

Faster than Adam, too. The faunus appeared stunned. "What-?"

"**Neutralising target."**

Jaune buckled as electricity shot through him, making his left leg spasm and crumple. He was barely able to keep hold of Jade as the second soldier came in with a smaller weapon in hand, a tazer of some kind. Growling, Jaune pulled our Mors and shot the man, only for the bullet to ping off his aura.

"Aura! They're huntsmen!"

Adam probably knew that already seeing as he was flung back into a wall. He rolled off it before the butt of the gun could cave his head in, swept Wilt up only for it to be parried yet again. The black armoured soldier ran him down, bowling into Adam shoulder first as the third crashed his bulkier gas weapon down on Blake, punching through her guard and striking her to the floor.

Fuck! Who were these guys!? Chivalric Arms? The man in front of him aimed again and he let go of Jade with a whispered apology, depositing her on the floor and diving to the side. The shot went between them and splashed on the floor, the man adjusting his aim to chase with military precision. No, more than that. The huntsman moved purposefully, maintaining what he quickly realised was always a precise distance between them.

He knew about Null. They were trained to deal with Null.

Electric weaponry to damage his muscles through aura. Training to best him in melee. Teamwork and multiple opponents to outmanoeuvre him in ranged and always keep at least someone out of his Semblance, and gas grenades to bring him down. They were practically made to capture him.

Adam twisted and slapped the rifle away from himself, feinted and dropped, firing Blush up into his opponent while he was distracted. The surprise bought a startled grunt and a step back. They knew how to deal with his Semblance, but these people didn't have a grasp on Adam or Blake yet! _That's my only chance. I can't touch these bastards._

Charging in, Jaune made to tackle his enemy, crashing into him. The soldier drove his tazer down and sent lightning crackling through him. His muscles locked up, teeth grinding together as fire ripped through his body, drawing out a scream.

Still, he pushed, driving his feet down, carrying the man forward and away from Jade.

His body trembled. Aura flared and flashed but did little against the electricity that crackled harmlessly over it but still jabbed and dug into his muscles. His hands went numb on the man's belt. He would have fallen but threw his final effort into it, forcing the man to take another step back.

Into range of his ally.

"Adam!" he yelled in warning, activating Null.

_Instantly_, the electricity racing through him became a hundred times worse. Jaune screamed and hit the floor, spasming and convulsing. His eyes clenched themselves shut as he shrieked under the barrage.

It cut off with a sickening squelch.

Jaune cut his Semblance off the moment he heard it, knowing what had happened. A heavy body collapsed over him, a hole in its chest where Wilt had pierced through, striking the man in the back when he was distracted and open, having not realised that Jaune was pushing him closer and closer to Adam's fight.

Shaking and raw, he pushed the body off himself and looked back to the fight. Adam and Blake were even with their opponents still, or Adam was. Blake was taking the worst of it and favouring one arm and dodging as best she could. _Need to help her,_ he thought, crawling over. Blake saw and retreated to him, but this time the soldier didn't chase. He'd seen his fellow fall. Instead, he cocked his grenade launcher and fed another canister into it.

"Who the hell are these guys?" Blake hissed. "They're as good as Specialists!"

"M-Maybe they are," Jaune said, letting her help him up. "Chivalric Arms' Specialists. Or whatever they call them." A quick glance showed Adam going even with his foe, not winning but holding his own. "You go left, I go right."

"Can you even walk?"

"We're about to find out."

Nodding, Blake parted left, flicking Gambol Shroud out to cast the grenade back into the man mod-flight. It hit and exploded over his chest, but he waded through it with his gasmask protecting him. His eyes traced Blake and he stepped back, keeping both Jaune and Blake in vision, and his back to the closest wall. Tossing his grenade launcher down, the man drew a tazer in one hand and a hefty combat knife in the other.

No retreat. No surrender.

Jaune sent Blake a quick hand motion, one she returned with a quick shot of Gambol Shroud at the soldier, forcing him to hunker down.

And then, Jaune turned and fled back.

Adam saw him coming and lashed out with Wilt, slashing down overhead and forcing the soldier to block, catching the blade between the trigger guard and the magazine. When he did, Adam twisted and locked Wilt in, stepping forward and driving him back. Back onto the butt of Mors' handle, which Jaune drove into the man's neck, activating Null and pressing the trigger.

There was no seeing the blade, but he heard the hiss, the grunt from the man and felt the blood dribble down his fingers. Pulling it free, he de-activated Null and let aura return, giving Adam a chance to disengage safely.

The soldier fell to one knee and reached up to touch his neck.

No, his gas mask.

"**Tango-B Down. Primary target located. Subjects 004 and 005 lost. All units, converge and secure. Primary target located."**

With that said, the man toppled onto his front and lay motionless. Cursing, Adam hurried over to help Blake with the last, overpowering the man with her aid. Before he could capture him alive though, the man drew out a grenade and flipped the pin, rushing in to tackle Blake.

"Blake!" Adam yelled.

The man, and Blake, went up in a ball of fire.

"I'm okay," she panted, crouched by Hazel with wide eyes and a cracked mask, watching as the smoke faded to show the corpse of the man she'd been fighting, and the flitting remains of her clone disappearing. "I-I got out," she stammered. "Just."

Adam gripped her tight and crushed her chest to his, kissing her forehead. He let go a moment later and sheathed Wilt, wincing and gripping his shoulder. His eyes trailed over the room, noting not only the dead bodies of the scientists, but also the soldiers Jaune had taken prisoner before they breached the labs. To a one, those men, hands still cuffed, were dead, executed on the spot.

"They killed everyone," Blake whispered. "Why?"

"Reinforcements," Adam spat. "Though not, it seems, to rescue their own men." He shook his head and turned away from the bloodshed. "Jaune, collect your sister. I'll get the other. We're leaving now, before any more can arrive."

Jaune nodded and took Jade, leaving Adam to pick up Hazel over his shoulder. As they did, more gunfire sounded from within the facility, making them tense. Blake aimed her weapon at a doorway, but no one came through.

"Who are they shooting at?" she asked. "We're over here…"

"I knocked those I could unconscious," Adam replied. "I'm sure you did the same…"

It took her a second to piece together the pieces, and then to let out a wild and agonised shriek. "No!"

"Blake!" Adam caught her shoulder. "There's nothing we can do. They're cleaning this place from top to bottom and _no one_ is coming out of it alive. Rush after them and you'll be just another body added to the bonfire."

"They're killing prisoners, Adam! They're executing defenceless people!"

"Our lives take priority." He shoved her roughly toward the entrance. "Go. We can bring them to justice another day. Move!"

Whether it was his tone or the severity of the situation, Blake hurried on, leading the way back to the main entrance. They passed by more bodies, hallways streaked with blood and a mere fraction of that from their own efforts. Gunfire continued in the distance, interspersed by screams and the constant wailing of the base's alarm.

They reached the staircase quickly, Blake scuttling up and calling the all-clear. Sunlight washed over them, and the White Fang were there, some bloody and frightened, shouting for them to run. There was no time to question, Jaune following Blake and Adam with Jade bouncing against his back. Behind, a barrage of explosions ripped through the air, a constant _thoom_ of missiles impacting the facility. Reaching the treeline, he offered Jade to the medic, Fitch, and turned to look back.

Three black Bullheads hung in the air, two off toward the hangar and one circling the facility. The two at the hangar unleashed a fresh salvo of missiles, which speared into the now open doors and incinerated the aircraft within, ripping great holes in the facility and causing smoke to billow upwards.

"They're bombing the place to the ground," he whispered.

Adam tensed as the third Bullhead stopped and black lines came down, ropes dropping as more of the huntsmen they'd faced rappelled down toward the facility. Four, six, eight of them – and to think that three had almost been enough to kill them already. Those men breached through the ceiling, pouring down into the facility, no doubt responding to the last call of their position. Once it was clear they weren't there, they'd sweep the base, kill everyone, burn it to the ground and then pursue.

"No evidence," Adam said. "No survivors. And if we stick around too long, no _us_ either. Everyone, pack up. We're moving south. They'll expect us to go east and rush for the coast. We're not playing into that. We'll head south, take the SDC train and _then_ make for Menagerie once it's clear."

"This – This is horrible," Blake whispered. "This is – It's-"

"Blake!" Adam slapped a hand to her shoulder. "Snap out of it. We signed up for this. We knew the risks." He sneered back at the compound. "So did they. We tried to save those we could, but this is the reality of the situation. The reality of war. Our job isn't to rush in there and stop them. It's to make sure people like that don't end up with a weapon like Null. This is just one more enemy for us. One of many..."

Blake stood silent, fists clenched.

Adam made to say something, then thought better. With a wave of his hand he hailed the others, shifting Hazel on his shoulder. "Our work here is done. Let's move."

* * *

**Just so you know, these people aren't related to the ASF or In the Kingdom's Service in any way. They're basically dressed the same as Atlas' normal soldiers, except in full black and with gas masks below their helmets.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 11****th**** May**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	14. Chapter 14

**Here we go**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Night had fallen when Adam called a stop to their ferocious march. The White Fang were close to passing out and struggled to put the tents up, yet none doubted the necessity of the pace he'd set. There were many miles between the Chivalric Arms facility and them now, enough that they could no longer see the huge plumes of smoke that had started billowing behind them.

Jaune struggled to get his tent up in the low light. Luckily, a generous faunus helped, using his night vision to handle the fiddly bits while Jaune did the heavy lifting. "Thanks," he said once it was up. "Seriously, thank you."

"No problem, man." The faunus slapped his shoulder. "We're all in this together."

How long had they been together now? One week? Two? It didn't feel long enough to build that kind of camaraderie. He'd fought with them, though, and they'd fought with him. He trusted Adam with his sisters, Blake too and even Fitch, the medic. In turn, they trusted him. Common enemies. Or maybe it was just the bonds forged through blood. Was this what huntsman teams were like? Dad had-

Jaune closed his eyes. Sighed. Let it go.

Adam was busy helping set the perimeter and wouldn't appreciate being disturbed when the whole group was so exhausted. He had no idea where Blake was. Probably resting for second shift. Jaune picked his way to the medical tent instead, rapping his fist once on the wooden post driven into the ground outside that served as nothing more than a way to announce your presence, or a need for first aid. Pulling the flap back and entering, Fitch spared him a quick look before turning back to his sisters.

"They're still out," he reported. "They were likely anesthetised in response to your attack on the facility, so they should be out for a while. They're health- alive," he decided. "Not much healthy about this. I've not had the time to check with how we've been marching but I'd be willing to bet malnutrition and several deficiencies based on colouration and weight alone. Chief among those being Vitamin D."

"Which is that?"

"Sunlight. Well, and lack of foods like seafood, but I don't think it's hard to figure out which it is in this case. Luckily, it's all stuff that can be fixed in Menagerie. We don't have much in Menagerie, but sunlight and fish is in abundance."

Jaune smiled and came over, Fitch making room for him to stand between Hazel and Jade's beds. "That's good. Thanks for looking after them."

"It's my job. And I have a sister," he added. Nothing more had to be said there. "All in all, that's four of them you've rescued now. Two remaining, isn't it?"

"Three remaining. There's my mom and two sisters – Amber and Sable. And Saphron is already in Atlas. Safe, if I can believe the news." He wasn't willing to after the shit it had spouted recently. For all he knew, she could be kept a prisoner and a mouthpiece, dragged out on threats to Terra, Adrian or someone else.

"The Bullheads don't add up," Fitch said.

"Huh?"

"The Bullheads that fled the facility containing your first sister. One stayed in Atlas, one to Vacuo, two to Mistral – that's these two – and three to Vale. That's _five_ Bullheads for three people."

"I know. I just assumed the spares would be fleeing researchers or soldiers." He ran a finger over Hazel's cheek, tender with an elder sister he used to constantly fight and bicker with. "It doesn't matter in the end. If there's even a chance, I'll find them. Three of the five went to Vale. That has to mean the bigger facility is there. If one is still missing after, I'll try Vacuo, then Atlas again."

Fitch shrugged. "Fair enough. We're to Menagerie first, though. You okay with that?"

"Yes. Not happy, but Adam is right that it's the best bet. These Chivalric Arms people will be expecting us to go straight to Vale." So would Atlas, and probably Qrow as well. The huntsman may have alerted them to their pursuers, but he was still a huntsman. "I'll be fine with Menagerie as long as we don't have to stay there too long."

"Not much risk of that. Sienna prefers Adam out in the field. I doubt she'll want to split you up either. No point messing with something that works." That was a relief, since even if he felt he could work with anyone, he'd much prefer doing so with Adam and Blake. "We've the heist first, though."

"Yeah. Dust robbery on a train, right?"

"Something like that. Adam will know more." Fitch stood, sensing his distraction. "I'm going to grab some food. Look after those two for me." Jaune nodded, grateful for the chance to be alone with them. Fitch closed the tent flap behind him as he left, granting them what little privacy could be could.

The girls were quiet. Peaceful. Whether their dreams would be was another matter. He took a hand of theirs each and held it, standing between them wondering what he should do, if anything at all. The closest he'd ever come to having to comfort them before was patting Jade's back after a messy break-up. This was the kind of thing mom or dad would have been better at.

"I'm here," he said, hoping they'd hear it. "And when you wake up, you'll be out of those cages. Lavender and Coral are waiting in Menagerie. You'll get to walk in the sun with them, go fishing and make friends with all the faunus. You'll like it there." He grinned. "Blake tells me it's got the best beaches. Imagine being able to sunbathe and swim every day. It… It'll be great."

It wouldn't be the same. He missed Ansel, their home, the little lake their parents would take them to in the summer months. The arcade, the shops and even the stupid school. None of that would ever be coming back, nor the same, but they could make new lives.

"We'll have to start afresh. New friends, new home and new sights to see. It won't be the same but… but it'll be good. You'll see." He squeezed their hands tighter. "And when everyone is there, we'll have a proper funeral for dad. I promise."

/-/

Winter's guards lowered their weapons. The devastation made it clear they weren't need anymore, the smoke and the sickly smell of dust and bodies on the air. Winter's face scrunched up, but she refrained from gagging, instead breathing through her mouth as she strode off the aircraft and onto the charred grass, Qrow Branwen at her side.

"Fuck me," the huntsman whispered. "They don't mess around."

"No. They do not."

Gone was any hope of catching Jaune and the White Fang in the act. The smoke was still oozing above the site and had guided them here, but it was a faint grey now, more like silvery mist. The fires had burned out a few hours ago at least. The sheer amount of fuel spoke of how long that would have lasted. Like in Atlas, the facility had been detonated. Again, the documentation within would be destroyed, robbing Atlas of the chance of finding evidence, though, from the White Fang's point of view, they must have thought it worth the effort to remove any chance of the Null research being completed.

Jasper removed her helmet and let it fall to the ground. Gasping for air, she held a hand over her mouth and retched. Branwen offered the Lieutenant a sarcastic smile and then looked to Winter, for all the world acting like it was a slight against _her_.

"Not used to scenes like this?"

"On the contrary, I've seen such death before," she replied. "And the White Fang was involved then as well. My aunt was executed." Winter felt no victory at the sharp breath Qrow drew in, nor the quick and whispered apology. "I'd suggest we scour the facility but I'm sure we won't find anything. More than that, I don't like the risks involved."

"Whole place looks like it could come down on our heads," Qrow agreed. "Maybe if we had more time and engineers from Atlas to fortify it. Not much point, though. They wouldn't have taken the time to do _this_ if they weren't willing to destroy every bit of documentation in the place." He planted a hand over his face. "I can't believe the kid would do this. Maybe he's further gone than I thought."

For once, she couldn't find it in herself to disagree with him.

The facility had been destroyed, the ground ripped up and metal and corridors revealed, albeit covered in debris. Much of the surrounding area had been torn asunder by high explosives, but that wasn't what drew their eye. Outside the facility, by the entrance but drawn out to a clearing, was a large blackened mass still smouldering.

Bodies. They'd dragged the bodies out and burned them.

"This isn't common White Fang procedure," she said. "Even at their worst, they leave the bodies behind. I've found good men buried. Simply, I admit, but even a hole in the ground and a rifle laid on it is better than this." If it had been a funeral pyre, she might have accepted it, but these bodies were piled haphazardly, literally stacked on top of one another and lit up. Bodies burned, but not with the intensity that had been seen here. Fuel had been added. "Why? What's the point?"

"Sending a message?" Sergeant Cardamom offered.

"They're the White Fang. They already have notoriety."

"Not them; the kid. Your tinhead might be onto something. This could be a message to anyone else working with this group of yours. A warning."

Could Jaune Arc do this? Though she wanted to say no, the obvious answer was yes. He'd clearly been the one to target the facility first and with the White Fang at his back, they had the manpower to drag all the bodies out. The motive, too. It was a leap from what she might have expected from a civilian, but how much of a civilian was he really? After being tortured and put through experimentation, what was to say he hadn't snapped entirely?

"We'll have to investigate the bodies," she said, hating the idea even as she said it.

"Uh. That's all you. I'm outside the chain of command."

True. He was under no obligation to follow her orders. "I didn't realise you were so squeamish."

"I'm not- argh. Fine. Let's get this over with." He marched up to the pyre while Winter followed, shaking her head and hiding the tiniest of smiles. Too easy. That smile died a moment later, mostly when she came within range and could no longer ignore the _scent_ of burning fat and crackled skin. She'd never been more thankful for her uniform necessitating gloves than this moment.

The two of them began pulling bodies away, joined by Sergeant Cardamom and eventually Jasper once she got herself under control. No one spoke as they worked, pulling bodies away and laying them out flat side by side on their backs. The deeper they got, the more unrecognisable the bodies became, some burned to the point they no longer looked human. More than once, she had to stop to take several deep breaths. It was the same for the others, with even Qrow having to walk away to suck in some clean air.

An hour. It took them a full hour to arrange the fallen, and that was ignoring the ten or so they'd left behind. It was hard to even guess it was ten. The mass of blackened stumps and ash were too indistinguishable and stuck together in one horrid mess. The second they were finished, the Sergeant and Lieutenant made their excuses of guarding the perimeter and hurried away, no doubt to throw up in the bushes. Winter dearly wished she could join them.

"I've walked through villages killed by Grimm, whole populations slaughtered, and it was somehow less dire than this." Qrow poured booze out onto his hands, scrubbing himself raw. He wasn't the only one who'd seen villages like that and to be fair, memory altered things. Winter was sure the villages were in fact far worse, but it was hard to remember that when you were faced with this now, the scent of death in your nostrils and charred human ash on your fingertips.

"It is bad," she agreed woodenly. "I'll give you that. If you wish, you may take a break. I'm only going to inspect them and take pictures. General Ironwood and the Ace-Ops can run them through databases without our aid."

"Nah, I'll stay. Worst is over. Might as well see this through." He drew out his scroll. "I'll help. You'll give me the number to send them to?"

"Yes. And thank you, Qrow. I appreciate this." Setting aside their rivalry for this, at least. He muttered his response, one of those grudging things men did when you praised them. Or at least the men _she_ was used to dealing with, the military types.

Winter took one side of the bodies and began the arduous task of photographing each and every one of them. The faces of some were still vaguely distinguishable but others were much too far gone. They took snaps regardless; in the hopes they might be catalogued if nothing else. Missing people reports could be cross-checked against them and traced back. The Ace-Ops would know what to do and a grander picture might be pieced together.

One thing she noticed as she worked was the wounds. Without a fault, each person had a bullet wound on them. Odd. Or was it? With the capabilities of Null, firearms became more effective, perhaps even better than bladed weaponry. It wasn't hard to imagine Taurus putting down his sword if he could make every shot fatal.

The wounds were too uniform, however. Always one on the chest – and sometimes there were others that would have clearly killed the person already, but still, one shot. Centre chest. _Assurance. They shot all the bodies to make sure none were acting._ The thought of it was gruesome, of one or two feigning dead and watching their fellows be dragged out and having a bullet put through them, knowing your time would come.

"I found nothing of use," Qrow said, coming up behind her with his scroll held out. "No ID, no defining badges or marks or anything. Either those all got destroyed or the White Fang took the time to remove them."

It was the same on her end. Winter took his scroll and began the transfer of images to her own, mulling over that the implications might mean. For the White Fang to come here and kill all these people was one thing, but to take the time to strip them of identifying marks was another. Unless they intended to sow confusion with a view to infiltrating the military. That might be made easier if there were people unaccounted for.

"General Ironwood will see the bigger picture if there is one."

"Lot of faith for the old robot."

"He's earned it." Unlike the one Qrow followed, she personally thought. Ozpin might have been a good man and headmaster of Beacon, but she wasn't sure just why General Ironwood placed so much faith in him. Whenever she tried to ask, he just told her to have faith in his judgment. It was vexing to know there was information she wasn't trusted enough to be privy to. That _Qrow_ knew it was even more frustrating. "There's nothing more we can do here. The White Fang will be long gone now."

"Yeah. But to where? Some of those Bullheads went for Vale. I won't lie. I'm not liking the thought of the kid going there. I have nieces."

"My sister will also be attending Beacon." He looked surprised by the news which she didn't fault him for. "It has yet to be announced."

"Huh. The more you know. I don't mind telling you, Winter, I'm worried for the girls. We've got the Vytal Festival coming up too. It'd be a grand time for the White Fang to make a statement, wouldn't it? Can you imagine if they hit there?"

"They'd be killed," she replied. "Atlas is in charge of security. Amity will be secure."

"See, I'd believe that if not for one thing." He flicked his hand toward the bodies. "The fact that `Null` makes all that security as good as useless. If he wanted to, he could kill every huntsman there. Just walk down with his aura up, shooting anyone who comes close enough to lose theirs."

Winter shot him a sharp look. "Do you think he could!?"

"After seeing this? This is a massacre. I don't think murder is going to bother him."

No, that wouldn't make much sense. Then again, something still didn't. "I'm not convinced."

Qrow balked. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Or at least nothing I can say." Giving him his scroll back, she turned away from the bodies. "It's best we wait for the results of the investigation. He's not in Vale yet, and I'm not sure he could head there immediately. He's just rescued another one sibling at least. His first responsibility is going to be getting her to safety."

"Menagerie," Qrow realised. "That's the only place he could send 'em!" He paled drastically. "No. Tell me you haven't-"

"We've not sent anyone to Menagerie."

"Okay. Cool. You had me afraid there for a second." Qrow wheezed with his hands on his knees, not that she could blame his relief. While the idea had seemed obvious to her at first and she'd brought it up to Ironwood with the idea of collecting those siblings to keep them safe, the General had shot it down viciously.

Jaune was already prepared to kill to free his sisters. How far would he be pushed if Atlas went and captured them again? This was bad, there was no denying that, but if he really wished to, Jaune could walk into Atlas and cause a massacre. He would die for it, brought down by force of arms, but there was no telling how much damage he could do with his swan song.

Or far worse, he might commit himself to the White Fang fully, throwing away his goals for the purpose of doing as much harm to Atlas and nothing more. The thought of Adam Taurus with a fully loyal and obedient Null Semblance under his control wasn't worth considering. The Schnee manor would fall within days, and it was quite possible Atlas might as well.

That might have seemed extreme, but with all the military hardware in Atlas, it wouldn't be hard to detonate missiles or launch them at themselves. The prevention for that was levels of security, hundreds of soldiers and numerous Specialists, all of which might mean so little against twenty skilled White Fang operatives and a man who could turn Semblances off and on at will. Atlas was already in the crosshairs. No need to make things worse by going after his sisters again.

"I'm going to have to report this to Ozpin," Qrow said. "He's going to be coming to Vale eventually and the old man has to know. If the kid does…" He looked back at the bodies. "I'm not sure how easy we can afford to go on him."

"You would kill him?" she asked.

"If it was a choice between him and my nieces. Yes. Wouldn't you for your sister?"

"If he held a gun to her head," she replied, "But not until then. Jaune Arc is of yet innocent of any crimes."

Qrow barked out a laugh. "You serious? After seeing this!?" He paled when he noticed her expression. "Are you for real? Damn it. I knew you were inflexible, but this is a little ridiculous. I get that he's been pushed to an extreme. Believe me, I get that. He's a victim and what happened to his family is nothing short of evil – but this doesn't make it better. Repaying evil with evil doesn't fix anything."

"And killing him like a wild animal will?" she asked. "Isn't that adding a third evil?"

"You don't call it evil when you put down a dangerous animal. It's necessity."

"I'm not sure that action is necessary yet." Something didn't ring true for her, but she couldn't place what it was. The message, the bodies or just the effort put into it. It might make sense if the researchers had killed the sisters kept here – a possibility she wasn't sure she wanted to imagine – but beyond that? It didn't make sense. "General Ironwood wants him alive," she said. "That's all that matters to me."

"Right. That's fine so long as it's you and yours in danger." Qrow walked past her without looking back. "Just don't expect me to not do anything if he shows up around the Vytal Festival. He puts my family in danger, I'm dealing with him."

"I thought he frightened you," she called after him. "You said he could kill you."

"He can. And he damn well might. But I'll tell you now, Winter, the thought of losing my nieces frightens me a whole lot more." Ignoring the aircraft that had brought them, Qrow Branwen walked into the treeline and out of sight.

"Should I follow him, ma'am?" Cardamom asked.

"No. Let him go."

/-/

"I can't believe it's really you."

Jaune held himself still as Jade ran her hands over his face, marvelling at the fact he was really there. Wan and gaunt, she looked so small and frail compared to what she used to. Jade and Hazel were the terrible twins, inseparable and loud, constantly swearing, tomboyish and punk with a lock of hair dyed green and blue respectively. That had grown out now and the scientists certainly hadn't cared for fashion, cutting their hair short to their heads and dressing them in white gowns.

It gave them a fay appearance, which combined with their pale skin and bony wrists made them look ethereal. It was all of it wrong. They were supposed to be in leather trousers, high heel boots and talking about boys or how to sneak in a new piercing without mom noticing. They were meant to be swearing and cursing and getting all huffy when Saphron told them off for it. The twins before him were so different to those he was used to that it hurt to see them.

"It's me," he whispered. "I'm here. I got you out."

"Saved by our younger brother," Hazel said. Unlike Jade she was still too tired to sit up, but she had his hand clasped against her side as though afraid he might run away. At least her refusal to admit her fear was more in keeping with her personality. "What happened to the weak little bro I used to tease?"

He died. He was tortured to death. "I guess he grew up," he lied. "Someone had to do something and I was the first to be freed. And I had help. A lot of help."

"I'm still not sure this isn't a dream. Or a nightmare. I don't know which it would be. Please don't give me this false hop-" He silenced Jade with a hand over her mouth, squeezing gently but firm enough for her to feel it. To have that proof. Her eyes watered, tears running down over his fingers. He hated to see them like this. He'd _never_ seen them like this before. Never! Damn those bastards. Damn Atlas. Damn them all!

"I said I'm here and I am. I doubt your imagination could make up something as stupid as me joining the White Fang. I'm not even faunus." Gently, he pushed Jade back down into her pillows. "Now lay down and rest. We'll be going to Menagerie soon. All three of us. You'll love it there. Lavender and Coral are already there, and they'll have the house ready for us. We'll visit the beach and go swimming, catch and cook fish. It'll be great."

"W-What about the others?" Hazel asked.

"Saphron is in Atlas with Terra. I'll be going for them last. I'm still looking for Sable, Amber and mom. Vale is next, then Vacuo if I don't find them in Vale."

"You're not staying in Menagerie with us?"

"I can't," he said, stroking Jade's forehead. "Who else is going to save them?"

"The White Fang. T-The police." Even as she said it, he could hear the quiver in Jade's voice. Don't cry. He didn't think he'd be able to handle it if she did. "S-Someone has to help. Why does it have to be you? Why does it have to be any of us? W-Why did this have to h-happen…?"

Jaune pressed his forehead down into Jade's. He wasn't sure why. It was a random move and startled her as much as it did him – but it made her jump before she could cry, so it worked that much. He tilted his head up to kiss her forehead. Jade's eyes instantly began to water, as there'd only ever been one man who did that to them.

"If Dad was still here, nothing would stop him." He stroked her cheeks as he'd seen dad do before. His fingertips found all too much water as she cried silently. "He'd turn Remnant inside out to find you, and he'd pull it off. No one could ever stop him."

"J-Jaune…"

"But Dad isn't around anymore. He… I… I'll step in where he can't." He swallowed his own tears. "It's what he would – no, it's not what he'd want at all, but it's what he's do. I know I'm not dad. I'm not a tenth as strong as him. Not even a hundredth." His voice became raw. "I'm going to try my best, though. I'm… I'm going to find the others. Bring you all together. We'll be a family again. I'll make this work!"

"You can't," Hazel said. "They'll kill you. You can't fight-"

"I can." They went silent, unsure what he meant. That was no accident. He'd told them the White Fang saved them because he hadn't thought he needed to say more, but… maybe he did. "This… I…" It had been so much easier with Lavender and Coral. They'd been there. They'd seen things. And Coral was… she'd always been quick to accept things. Calm and collected. "I…" Closing his eyes, he forced it out. "I've already killed a lot of people."

Hazel sucked in a breath. "What?"

"People who got in the way. Scientists keeping Coral and you. They – They were doing tests and they were evil. One of them pushed for mom to be impregnated, and he wanted to do the same to Coral and the rest of you. Personally." Their faces drained of blood. "And I killed him. Or I had him killed, but it's the same thing."

"Jaune, what-? But… But you're you! You can't even fight. Dad never trained you. He didn't train anyone."

"I don't need training to pull a trigger. It's easy. Too easy. And I don't like it," he said quickly, "But if it's something I have to do to save you all, I'll do it." He waited for their hate. Their disgust. "I'm sorry. I had – I _have_ to do this. Keep doing this."

Jade looked like she wanted to be sick. "You're killing people?"

"I am." Afraid, he pulled his hand away. "I'll go. You two need rest and-"

"NO!" Jade panicked and lashed out, catching his wrist and grabbing onto his White Fang uniform. Desperately, with clear terror in her eyes, she clung to him. "Don't go. P-Please. Not yet. It's fine. I don't care if you kill, how many, just… I… Not now. Stay." On his other side, Hazel had his hand clutched to her chest, all but drawn under the blankets with both arms wrapped around his elbow. "I don't care what you've done. _We_ don't care." Hazel nodded her head quickly, squeezing his arm. "You're our brother. You saved us. That's all that matters. Don't go."

"I have to. I have to save the others."

"Not tonight," she insisted. "Or today. You'll stay with us today?"

"Adam has called for a day's rest. Everyone is too tired to move. I'll be here all day." Hazel and Jade both relaxed at the news, sinking back with shaky breaths released. He realised they hadn't mean him leaving in the long run. They were terrified of being left alone now. Afraid of this being a dream still. "I'll be staying here all day with you and I'll sleep in here as well. You'll see when you wake up tomorrow and we're still here. I want to take you outside as well. Get you some fresh air and sunlight."

"And tomorrow?" Hazel asked anxiously.

He hated it. Despised it. Not as far back as he could remember had Hazel _ever_ sounded so small. So fragile. Just the suggestion would have earned him a headlock and a fist driven into his hair until he begged for mercy.

"We'll probably have to march tomorrow, but you'll be on these beds. I'll be with you then as well and you can laugh at me panting like an old man." He grinned, pleased to see them relaxing. "I do have a job I have to do with Adam and Blake – I'll introduce you to them later – but I'll come back, then we'll be going to Menagerie. Sorry but you're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

"That long…?" Jade smiled. It was weak, but there was a tiny spark in it that struck him as familiar. The most hesitant curl at the edges, a poor man's attempt at a smirk. Right now, he'd take it. He'd take anything right now. "I guess we can put up with our stupid little brother if he wants to hang around with his cool sisters."

Things weren't how they used to be, not even close, but they were trying. There was probably something unhealthy in trying to recreate something they'd never again have, but here and now, he played along.

"Will you be okay if I get a little clingy? I might even want to pull the beds together and sleep between you."

"You're such a baby." Even as Hazel said it, he could see the clear relief in her eyes. They wanted him close but didn't know how to say it. If that was the case, it didn't cost him anything to play the idiot and let them tease him. If it made them more comfortable, it was all worth it. "B-But okay. If you really are that pathetic."

"I really am," he said, pulling their beds together and climbing up. The metal supports carried his weight easily, and Jade and Hazel were quick to snuggle into his sides. When was the last time they'd shared a bed? When he was ten? He could vaguely remember distant nightmares as a child and seeking the company of any sister willing to put up with him.

It had been different then. More grudging. The twins hadn't exactly been the most doting and sympathetic of his sisters. That was Saphron and Sable. Now, however, they clung to him desperately, trapping him between their bodies like a teddy bear that didn't dare let go of.

"You better be here when I wake up," Jade whispered. "If you're not, if this is a dream, I'll never fucking forgive you."

That was more like her. Thorns and all. Jaune chuckled, already feeling pins and needles set in from their heads pinning his arms down. He wasn't even tired, having slept through the night, which meant he'd be awake the whole time. It was a small sacrifice to make.

"Scary. I'd better stick around, then."

"Yeah." Hazel leaned against his other shoulder. "You better."

* * *

**To note, Jaune doesn't know Sable is safe yet. I know Ironwood saved Sable, but since Jaune doesn't know that, he still thinks she is captured. Please don't think I forgot when I included her name earlier. Jaune isn't yet aware Winter went to Vacuo and saved Sable. **

**A couple of also people noticed how the Bullheads couldn't all have family on board since there were too many. This was intentional, and it's intentional the majority of those go to Vale as well. You'll see why soon enough. Though it's not an exact figure, we're about (or almost at) the halfway point of the entire story. This fic was always intended to be a story with two distinct halves. One being Jaune's events and development **_**before**_** Vale, and the second being him **_**at**_** Vale, and involved with the canon plot. After all, Vale is where all the excitement of the RWBY series is centred. It's where the characters are, and where the fun stuff happens.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 18****th**** May**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	15. Chapter 15

**Here we go**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

* * *

"We're behind schedule. The dust convoy has already reached the ferry." Adam tapped two fingers on the map, showing a connecting line between the continents of Anima and Sanus. He looked at Blake, Jaune and two White Fang members huddled around a table made of an upturned barrel with a map drawn out over the top. "Our best chance was to strike before now, but it's slipped us by."

"That's my fault, isn't it?" Jaune asked. "Because I needed us to save Jade and Hazel…"

"No. I factored time in for that. If anything it's the fault of those squads that hit it after we did. This was always going to be a tight operation; I planned it so we'd hit the train here," his finger slid to a point south of Mistral, "-where it would be refuelling. That was only ever going to be a window of a couple of hours. We lost that having to rest after fleeing the facility."

"That's it, then," Blake said with noticeable relief. Adam had to have noticed it, but he didn't react, even if the two White Fang members did, sending Blake dirty looks. "We've missed the convoy."

"Not quite. There's still time…"

"We can't attack it at the ferry or we'll be covered in huntsmen before we can get the dust away."

"You'd have us do nothing then?" one of the White Fang members demanded. "Sienna granted us this task. It's our responsibility to see it through!"

"Our _responsibility_ is to the innocent faunus who might be harmed by this." Blake glared back at the faunus who could have been twice her age or more. Whether it was her position as Adam's partner or just her natural confidence, she wasn't cowed in the slightest. "Or do you think it's humans manning the ferries? It's dangerous work. We attack there and we'll never get the dust away, especially if it's in industrial containers."

"Blake isn't wrong." Adam's words earned a smug smile, though it was soon wiped away. "But I've already planned for that. We won't be hitting the ferry. Too dangerous, as you say." He slid his finger over the narrow channel and onto the other side, onto Vale.

"Adam, no!" Blake said. "I thought we were heading to Menagerie before Vale!"

"It's a temporary diversion. We take boats across, sneak on board the train while they're loading the dust and wait for it to begin its journey. Small team," he said. "You, me and Jaune. Once the train is moving and on its way we strike while it passes through here. Forever Fall. That's Grimm territory and any response will be muted. We decouple the cars, blow the connector and scuttle the dust. That's where you'll pick us up via Bullheads," he told the other faunus. "It's outside Vale's airspace and well beyond range of their defences. From there, we retreat to Menagerie with the dust in tow."

"Sounds good," the faunus said. "We've got elements in Vale with aircraft. Be a long journey back to Menagerie, though. Not sure the fuel will make it. If we stop here or here, we have ex-labour camps that can refuel us." The man leaned over to indicate on the map and Adam nodded, circling those spots with a pen.

"I'll leave that to you to arrange. Only tell those you trust."

"I'll get on that now." The faunus up and left, his companion following. The moment they were gone, Blake turned back to Adam and spoke.

"Is it really a good idea to chase this?"

"It's not the best of ideas," he admitted, "But they won't expect us to be here. This is a rare opportunity and a chance for Jaune to prove his worth to Sienna. All the progress saving his sisters won't mean anything to her. This will." Adam leaned back and fixed Blake with a firm look. "You weren't bothered about this when we were stopping the train in Mistral. What's changed?"

"Mistral is still fairly safe on the rail lines. Forever Fall is Grimm territory…"

"What does it matter, Blake? You were fine with us attacking targets in Atlas."

"That's because we were going to attack while it was stationed and steal the train! Now you're talking about hitting it mid-transit, and in Grimm territory. That's ten times worse!"

Was it? Jaune didn't know. The where didn't matter for him – attacking a train in Mistral or Vale was about the same thing. There was one problem, however. "What about Jade and Hazel? I don't want them going near Vale if Chivalric Arms have facilities there."

"We won't bring them. They'll stay here safe while we go on the mission. It won't even take a day," Adam said. "At best we're looking at four to six hours from crossing the channel to returning with the dust. Any longer and we're inviting retaliation."

Fast and hard. That was the only way for a group as small as theirs to make it work. Jaune nodded. The twins had been a little braver since waking up to find themselves not only safe but sandwiching him between them. They weren't recovered by any means, but their familiar snark had returned, even if it was clear they were forcing it in an effort to cling to the normality. He could go and be back before they knew it.

This had to be done. He needed the resources of the White Fang to infiltrate Vale and Adam had proven himself so far. If that meant he had to impress Sienna Khan, so be it. He'd bring them back the dust and earn his place. It couldn't be harder than breaking into a lab or fighting those elite soldiers.

"Adam, sir!" The tent flap was pushed in suddenly. "Those humans are back…"

Adam was on his feet immediately. "Humans? Who? Huntsmen-?" He gripped Wilt.

"No sir. The ones from before, from when we first touched ground in Mistral."

Snarling, Adam let go of his sword. "Them? Persistent. Tell the guards to stand down," he hissed. "They're no threat. Just pushy and ignorant of the boundaries they push upon. I'll come deal with them."

Blake caught his sleeve before he could go. "Who are they?"

"People who want to hire us," he replied distractedly. "People who think the White Fang is for hire in the first place." He pulled his arm away, Blake letting him go. "I'll send them on their way, and if they come back a third time, they'll be having words with Wilt."

Jaune watched him go, then looked to Blake, gripping the edge of the table as she stared down on the map. "What's the big deal?" he asked. "It's the same job. Only the place has changed. Is Vale that big a deal for you?"

"No. It…" Her eyes scrunched shut. "We'll be attacking it while it's moving. Before, we were just going to incapacitate the guards and take the train. Here, we'll be stopping it in an area covered in Grimm. Where do you think the people on board will go?"

Oh right. He hadn't considered it. They could just have tied up the SDC personnel before and left them in the station to be discovered later, but now. "I'm sure Adam has a plan. Let's put a little trust in him. Okay?"

Blake didn't look convinced.

/-/

"Will you be okay?" Hazel asked. "It sounds dangerous."

"Is my big sister worried for me?" he asked teasingly, earning a pout and a weak punch in the stomach. The worst part was knowing she hadn't held back at all but that it was all she could manage with so much malnourishment. At least she and Jade were eating, though Fitch had them on wet and soft food. The doctor knew best. Either way he feigned pain for their benefit. "Ow. Okay, okay. It'll be fine. Safer than anything else we've done, even. At best we're going up against train conductors and security guards. I'll be in more risk helping to move the dust because I might drop a crate on my foot."

"Knowing you, you would!" Hazel laughed despite the accusation, calming down now that she knew he'd be okay. "I can't believe I'm sat here listening to my little brother plan terrorism. I can't believe I'm supporting it."

"Don't think of it like you are. I'm just paying my debt to Adam for helping save you." They weren't terrorists – or more specifically his sisters weren't. He almost certainly was at this point. _Not that it matters. Chivalric Arms and Atlas will label me as anything if it means turning people against me._ In the end, this was all just him doing what he had to. Adam and the White Fang were protecting his sisters. That meant they instantly had his loyalty.

"When will you go?"

"Soon," he replied. "As soon as Adam makes the call. Don't worry, I'll be back before tomorrow. The thing about the White Fang is that everything is hit and run. This won't be a protracted fight or even a fight at all! If we take so long huntsmen arrive, we're not doing our job properly."

Hazel motioned with her hands toward him. He came close and let her wrap him up in a tight embrace, pressing her face into his neck. "Stay safe," she whispered. "None of this will be worth it if you die."

"I'm not going anywhere, sis. Not until we're a family again."

/-/

Crossing over to Vale was a surprisingly simple affair. If you went from city to city, you dealt with checks and balances, ID and more, but with so much of Remnant's land mass inaccessible due to Grimm, the borders of each Kingdom were little more than dotted lines on a map. They found their way to a small village by the coast run by faunus, where a man with bit donkey ears didn't ask questions and took them across the channel in a speedboat, cutting across and then travelling north up the coast, past the ferry docks where the shipment would be landing in an hours' time.

That was guarded. Jaune saw it from the boat as he, Blake and Adam whisked by without masks, Adam keeping his head down so no one could see the scar. A train lay waiting in the station, armed men in white and grey uniforms scanning the area as they buzzed by.

"Looks like we're on schedule again," Adam said, sitting up once it was out of sight. "It's getting on that'll be the problem."

"We're jumping onto a moving train?"

Adam grinned. "Afraid so. Up for it?"

"I'll have to be now, won't I?"

"He's teasing you," Blake said, slapping Adam's arm. "It's easy, Jaune. We'll find a ridge overlooking the track and it's less jumping and more falling onto it. As long as you go when we say, you'll land. It's the stopping it I'm more worried about."

"Leave that to me," Adam said.

The rest of the journey was made in relative silence. The trees on the shore began to turn red, tinted as though trapped in eternal autumn. The trunks became white dappled with black and grey. The boat drew into the shore soon after and they clambered off, Adam thanking their driver before he pulled out and away, looking relieved to be done with them, or perhaps just away from territory claimed by Grimm.

"It's beautiful," Jaune said.

"Forever Fall." Adam started moving, trusting them to follow. "And it's as beautiful as it is deadly. You can harvest sap here that's used in cooking and medicine. Villages used to harvest it before the big corporations moved in and took over. They outpriced the villages by cutting corners and using cheap labour, usually faunus. Send them in, collect the sap from those that come back alive and repeat. Benefit is, you don't need to pay the wages for those that die."

"That's horrible…"

"It's business," he growled back. "That's not even racist. It's just the usual profit over everything mentality. Safety standards are the first thing to go, morals next. Then the SDC shows up and lays down train tracks. I've no idea how they managed _that_ in a place overrun by Grimm, but I expect it was at a great cost, none of it paid by white collar workers."

Working from the map Adam had, they found the tracks without much difficulty, then followed them along, looking for any terrain that would grant them an east route on board. Jaune's eyes scanned the area for Grimm, nervously biting his lip as he realised his Semblance would for once be useless. He might have been anathema to huntsmen, but he was a poorly armed civilian where the Grimm were involved.

Against all odds, they found none. Was that normal? Everyone always said the Grimm were everywhere, but `everywhere` was a big place and they were just three people walking along the train tracks. Maybe the Grimm weren't as densely populated as people thought, or maybe they stayed away from empty clearings devoid of activity. Whatever the case, they travelled for a good thirty minutes without incident, until Adam spied a steep hill rising up from the trees.

"That's our spot. Clear view of the area and we'll see the train coming. No lip or overhand but I've a feeling the SDC will have cleared those to prevent rocks falling on the tracks. We'll have to do a run up and jump on. The slope will help there."

They trekked up in silence, climbing the pinkish terrain until they were up above the treeline, able to see for a fair distance, the red treetops rippling like an ocean in the breeze. "The girls would love to see this." He pulled out his scroll. "Mind if I take a snap?"

Adam shrugged. "Sure."

Jaune snapped a few pictures before putting it away and enjoying the vista for himself. Places like this could have been sights to see for tourists if it weren't for the Grimm. But maybe they only remained this way because of them because tourist companies couldn't come and turn the view into gaudy attractions with stairlifts, gift shops and other crap. Or people couldn't come and graffiti their names into the beautiful trees, drop cans of soda on the ground and scare away the wildlife.

Sad as it was to say it, the land flourished thanks to the Grimm. They didn't even hunt other animals.

"Heads up." Adam stood, gripping Wilt. Blake and Jaune rose as well, following his gaze to the thin plume of smoke coming up from the trees, spouted by a vehicle burning dust. It was hard to judge from a distance, the train seeming to move slowly, but it would be fast closer up. Jaune swallowed his fear and drew Mors. "The plan is simple," Adam said. "Get on board and disable anyone you see. Secure the dust and leave the rest to me." He moved forward, ducking into a run. "Let's go."

They ran. Down and down, faster and faster, until they delved back into the trees and his chest began to hurt. Blake and Adam were unstoppable, indomitable. It was sheer grit that kept him going with them until the tracks and the train came into view, the engine moving past with the long trail of cars chunking along behind. Some of them were large cars full of dust but others were flat and lower to the ground.

"Those!" Adam ordered, knowing he'd seen them. "Jump!"

There was no time for hesitation. Feet pounding down, Jaune took a deep breath and launched himself up and forward, hands circling in the air. The freefall was a terrifying moment, but it didn't last long. Metal clanged as his boots touched down. He almost stumbled when the ground under him moved. He fell to hands and knees, catching his breath as Adam and Blake landed on either side of him much more gracefully.

"Well done," Blake said, more to him than Adam.

"We can't afford to wait," Adam said. "There's a chance we've been spotted. We move forward and take the engine. Deal with anyone and everyone en route."

They were on the clock now. An hour until the train finished its journey and reached Vale, and time needed for the White Fang to get Bullheads into position. His heart raced as he hurried up to the next car, slamming into the door and gripping the edge, dragging it back with a loud, metallic crunch. It slid free, grating open. He slid inside and let Adam take the door, holding it open for Blake. Being daytime, thin beams of light cut through the slats at the top, shining over the interior, reflecting on numerous glass lenses set in metallic faces.

"Uh, guys," he opined. "I thought you said this was a _dust_ shipment."

"It is," Blake replied. "Why- oh…"

Numerous lights flickered on, the eyes of at least _twenty_ armed robots coming to life as they jerked mechanically and pulled themselves off the walls. _"Intruder detected,_" one of them beeped out. Its arms raised, revealing an assortment of weaponry you wouldn't expect to find on a commercial train.

"This isn't dust," Adam said uselessly. "It's a weapons shipment."

"_Neutralising."_

"Blake!"

"On it!" Blake charge din and sliced at the thing's arm, sliding under and causing its first barrage to adjust and cut through the floor in pursuit. Adam lunged and pierced it through while it was distracted, but by that point more were pulling themselves off the walls and activating. Adam sheathed and drew Wilt again, the blade wreathed in fire lighting up the interior and revealing yet more robotic assailants.

Mors centred on one and fired, muzzle flash blinding and round pinging off its chest. It swung a clawed arm at him in response and nearly took his head off! The arm sheared into and through the metal wall, showering him with sparks.

"Adam!" Jaune yelped. "I'm useless against robots!"

He could fight them with aura, but it was no better than the average person doing so, and the things were lunging right at him! If they caught him, they might drag him off the train and then he'd be stuck in Grimm territory. He ducked under another arm and slashed the blade of Mors at the machine's neck. It sparkled and slid over the metal plates, failing to cut. Did he shoot an explosive round? No way. Not in a confined space with his own allies here.

"Adam!?"

"Go ahead!" Adam roared. "Blake and I will deal with them." Adam put words to action, slicing forward and unleashing a wave of red that blew open the door ahead, granting Jaune a chance to run past the scattered robots and out into the open.

It wasn't leaving them. This was what Blake and Adam were good at and a quick look back showed them working in perfect consort, twisting and slipping by one another, switching enemies, slicing, shooting and kicking droids off the train. _They'll be fine. _He nodded, turning back ahead. _Time for me to do my part!_

His shoulder hit the next door and he rushed through, finally spotting the dust crates. So there _was_ dust here, but why the robots as well? Security? That didn't make sense. Why would security be stored in another cart and not, say, guarding the dust? They were obviously a shipment, but a shipment to where? Who in Vale could possibly want killer robots?

He could think of one group. Like soldiers armed with gas grenades, robots with natural hardiness but no aura would be a good way past his Semblance. _Could the SDC be working with Chivalric Arms?_ They might be – but it might just as easily be them sharing a train. _Either way, these robots aren't destined for commercial use like the dust is. Not unless people in Vale like to invite murder machines into their homes._

Adam would know what to look for. Maybe there'd be further evidence toward the front of the train or with the driver. Moving past the crates, he dragged open the next door and peeked through. No robots thankfully, only more dust stacked high in wooden crates. Catching his breath, he slowed down and made his way forward more carefully, flicking the safety on Mors. No use misfiring surrounded by so much dust. The sounds of combat continued behind, proof that Blake and Adam were fine.

Human opponents were probably up front in the engine room and the car before it. With any luck they hadn't heard the carnage, though he doubted that. Covering two more cars, he slid through the gap between two more, jumping over the connectors and onto the next. The door was locked from the inside but a ladder beside it provided a way up onto the roof. That also gave a good view back and he breathed a sigh of relief to see his allies moving closer, having dispatched most of the robots and now entering the cars containing the dust.

A tree branch almost punished his lack of attention. It whistled overhead so close it caught his hair and Jaune yelped, diving flat and looking ahead. Crawling forward, he worked his way to the next connection point between the cars and slid down, panting for breath. The door was open but the one behind was locked again, the car sealed off entirely. Through the window, it was dark inside, but a flash of light shone through a crack in the trees and illuminated a host of sleek metal figures that had Jaune recoiling.

"More robots? Shit." Luckily, the door was locked, and he didn't activate them. The one at the back must have been left open for some reason. "There's something fishy going on here…"

The train rocked suddenly, shaking back and forth and forcing him to grip onto the railing or fall off. It kept shaking, picking up speed in a way he could feel deep in his bones. The sudden lurch of it knocked him back into the locked door.

"What the-?"

Pulling himself off he heard the louder _ka-chunk_ behind. Jaune gripped the ladder and drew himself up so that he could lean one elbow atop the carriage and look back. His eyes widened, panic gripping his heart.

The train was splitting in two. Several cars back, around where the dust had been, the cars had disconnected and were slowing down, fading into the distance as the now shorter train sped on, picking up speed due to the reduction in weight.

"Blake!" he yelled, spotting her further down looking away from him. She flinched and turned back, almost as afraid as he. "What happened?"

Her attention darted backwards and then away, and she hurried to his position, dropping down between the two cars to land next to him. He couldn't help but notice how pale she was, how she was shaking.

"Adam disconnected the cars," she blurted out. "He cut the train in two."

"What? Why!?"

"T-There are people on board. The SDC staff and crew. It's to keep them alive. He's taken the dust and cut the train there so the White Fang can collect it. The only other choice was to blow the train up and strand it, but that would kill everyone on board."

And Adam cared about that? "Nice of him to decide that on the spot! What about us?"

"Us? Oh, ah, we're going to be picked up in Vale. It was a sudden change of plan – he's going to have the White Fang cell there get in touch and look after us. We need to stay hidden until then. We'll ride the train there, get off while they're inspecting the damage and lay low."

Knots were already twisting their way through his stomach. Why would Adam decide on this now, and why not give them a chance to fall back to the point where he wanted to cut the connectors? He touched his scroll but knew it'd be useless. There was no signal out here. _Damn it, Adam. I promised Jade and Hazel I'd be back before nightfall. You better have a good explanation for this._

"I don't like this, Blake. I'm a wanted criminal. Vale might be safe for you if you drop the mask, but it's filled with huntsmen who'd kill me as soon as look at me!"

"It'll be fine," she said. "It… Everything is going to be okay."

"I'm not some skittish animal!" he snapped. He regretted it a moment later. "I-I'm sorry. This is… I don't like this, but Adam knows best. He's not led us wrong so far. If he thinks this is best, I guess it is." How, he didn't know, but he had to have faith. "I guess it's better than killing everyone on board."

"Yes. Yes, it is. Adam…" Blake trailed off. "There… There was a change of heart."

"What about these killer robots? You think that's Chivalric Arms?"

"Maybe…"

"It can't be SDC," he said, following Blake into the next carriage. "If it were, they'd be guarding the dust, not taking up storage space doing nothing. They're basically strapped in for shipping. It's an arms shipment. Chivalric Arms. Makes sense."

"Yeah."

"You think we can trace where they're headed? It might give us the heads up on the next facility to hit. Three Bullheads went to Vale, but we don't know how many labs they have here or if they'll try and move my family now that they know I'm after them. What's the next step, do you think?"

"Probably."

Jaune scowled and gripped her shoulder. "Blake. Are you even listening to me?"

"No," she admitted, stopping and shaking a little. Her hand rose to her mask, slipping it off her face. After a long moment of hesitation she cast it out the closest window, sending it spinning into the trees.

"Blake…?"

"Our masks are no good in Vale. Might want to ditch them…"

He didn't. "There's a bigger reward on my face than for a member of the White Fang."

"Then keep it," she snapped. "I… I'm not in the mood, Jaune. Can we focus on the short term for now? Your family… They'll be okay. I…" Her eyes scrunched shut. "Trust me, Jaune. We'll find your family, just… let's find somewhere to hide for now."

He bit back his angry words. Blake was as shaken by this as he. "Alright. I'll trust you."

/-/

The train began to slow down as it approached Vale, the great walls of the city visible from the slatted windows, the gates protecting the railway entrance opening long before the train passed through, taking them from green wilderness to urban brown and grey, what he assumed to be the industrial part of the city surrounding them.

Blake led him off before it came to a stop, the two of them leaping from the train within view of anyone nearby, choosing speed over caution. Someone might have yelled out, but by then it was too late and they were rushing down alleyways and through factories, some abandoned and others quiet as the evening hours ticked in. Even if the city was bustling, there were areas that could only be called squalid, broken down homes and abandoned factories dotting a zone thick with the smell of burnt dust and smoke, the cacophony of the train clanging into place making it a poor place to live.

Some still did, of course. Jaune pulled his hoodie up and kept his face down as they hurried past people coming and going, more faunus than not in the poorer district, their boots splashing down in puddles, the cold wrapping around them. Blake was a girl on a mission, almost as nervous as he as she scanned every faunus and gripped her weapon tight as though expecting them to attack.

Eventually, she found them somewhere to stay. A broken-down apartment block with homeless people squatting in the rooms. It wasn't hard to find space higher up where the roof was less stable and the stars could be seen above. Wedging them in and sealing the door with Gambol Shroud's ribbon, she fell to her knees and panted for breath.

Jaune peered nervously out the broken window, avoiding the sharp shards of glass forming a star pattern where someone had thrown a rock through. The city was bright and well-lit, more so in the distance than where they current were, which was far smokier from industry. Cars hummed as they drove by, shearing through large puddles and spraying the sidewalks. It was civilisation after a long time away, and yet he didn't feel safer for it.

"Out the fire and into the frying pan. Do we try and slip out tomorrow? Meet up with the White Fang and hitch a boat to Menagerie?"

"Yes." Blake was looking away from him as she said it. There was a sharp _snapping_ sound and he rounded in time to see glass sprinkle to the floor.

"What was that?"

"My scroll. One of the robots must have hit it." She showed it off, the screen cracked beyond repair. "It's useless now." She tossed it into a corner of the room with more force than he thought necessary. Must have been frustration. "Where's yours?"

He patted his breast pocket. "Here. Should we try and call Adam?"

"Not tonight. He'll still be in Forever Fall and there'll be no signal there. We'll give it until tomorrow and make contact when the sun is up. He'll have had chance to get back to Mistral by then." Blake eyed his chest, his scroll, and then looked up to him. "You should get some sleep. I'll take first watch and wake you up around three in the morning. You can do the last few hours and we'll move at seven. Any earlier and it'll be suspicious for us to be about. We'll blend in better with the morning rush."

"To contact the White Fang?"

"Yes."

They had a plan. Good. Jaune shuffled over to the corner and sat against it, lacking anything to lay down on or cover himself with. He wanted to offer to take first watch for that reason alone, but Blake looked even more agitated. "It'll be okay," he said, hoping his words might have some effect. "If Adam says this is the plan, it'll work. We'll make it."

"I… I know." Blake closed her eyes. "Go to sleep, Jaune. This… Things will make more sense in the morning, I promise. I'll keep watch."

"Alright. I trust you."

Blake smiled thinly, leaning rigidly against the opposite wall. Her eyes remained on him more than the entranceway, though it was blocked off itself so he supposed it didn't matter. She'd hear someone trying to get in. Closing his eyes, he tried to force himself to sleep, only to be plagued by the thought of Jade and Hazel's reaction to him not coming back. Hopefully, Adam would explain to them what was going on and get them to Menagerie.

/-/

When his eyes flickered open the sun was streaming down through the window he was sat under, the sounds of cars and honking and everyday life loud and clear behind and below. Jaune blinked the sleep away, groggily wondering why it wasn't still dark if it was time for his shift. He looked up, question on his lips.

Blake was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**Wow. Good job, Blake. Yep, this is how Jaune gets his introduction to Vale, not with the support of Adam or the White Fang at his back but dumped in the middle of the city by a runaway cat cutting ties and looking to make a new start. To be fair to Blake, she knows there's no way Jaune would agree to her plan. He's loyal to Adam because Adam has his sisters.**

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**Next Chapter: 25****th**** May**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	16. Chapter 16

**So, people may have been confused as to why there was an update of this and then a vanishing chapter 16. I got a few PM's asking why. I made a mistake and uploaded the Tuesday story here, got alerted by about 40 private messages and then had to delete it and put it in its proper story. Naturally, that sent out alerts for this story. Sorry about that. It may mean you didn't get an alert for this (since the site may believe you already all got one for it a week back). If that's the case I do apologise. It was a mistake on my part as I was stressed about my dog. He's fine, though. Happier days now. **

**On a second note, the troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because **_**obviously**_** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 16**

* * *

Blake was gone.

His scroll was gone too, pocket opened and device missing. The sun had risen outside the dilapidated building and Vale was busy with pedestrians, shoppers and vehicles, while Jaune slid down the wall and clutched his stomach, fighting back hunger. It'd been a full hour since he'd woken up and panic had begun to set in.

Had Blake been captured? Her own scroll was still in pieces by the wall so she might have taken his and tried to reach Adam. If she'd been caught in the act, she wouldn't rat him out. It was a long shot. He knew it was because she would have woken him up for his shift if that were the case, as opposed to leaving him like this. At the very least there would have been a message, and why would she need to leave the building to make that call? It was a straw he grasped to, but one he had to. The alternative was too terrifying to consider.

Blake wouldn't do that. She knew what it's like to be hunted, hated. There had to be a reasonable explanation; something he was missing.

Trust had to mean something. It just had to.

Pangs of hunger rumbled through him. It was said you could go a week without food but less than a day was already gnawing at him. The fight the day before on the train hadn't helped any and his throat was dry, lips clammy. He'd have to move eventually, if nothing else them to find water. Jaune pushed his forehead into his knees, breathing deeply in a futile effort to control his mounting panic.

Alone. In Vale. Wanted. For now, at least, until he could find Blake and figure out what the hell was going on. He couldn't go outside without running the risk of being recognised, and Vale was attached to Beacon, a whole school of huntsmen ready to come arrest him. Or kill him, depending on how far Chivalric Arms had gotten into Vale's politics. From what Adam had told him Vale and Atlas were firm allies, the kind that supported each other in everything. That was part of the reason Adam wanted to his Mistral before Vale and save the Kingdom until after Menagerie.

What must Adam think of this? Would he think he'd fled or ignored his orders to go to Vale early? Would he be angry? Would he take it out on Jade and Hazel? No, not the latter, not unless he _really_ wanted to make an enemy of Null. _Adam is smart. Even if he did think I'd turned traitor, the obvious thing to do would be get the twins to Menagerie and use them as leverage. I just need to find a scroll, contact Adam and explain what's going on._

Easier said than done. He'd need to locate a scroll first, then reach the CCT or find a way to patch into it. And then he'd have to find a time where Adam was within range of one on his end or the call would fail. It would have been easier if he had a number for Sienna since she'd be in Menagerie the whole time, but you couldn't pick out a phone book and look her up under the `Terrorist Leader` directory.

Didn't Vale have a White Fang cell? Adam mentioned they might be working with them. If he could find that cell and introduce himself – shouldn't be hard given he was an international criminal known to be working with the White Fang – he might be able to get them to pass a message down the grapevine.

"Find Blake, the White Fang or a way to contact Adam," he recounted, head pushing back against the cold brick. "Either way, that's going to mean going outside." He let out a long breath, closing his eyes. "I can do this. I'm not afraid."

He was, but he couldn't afford to be. Dad wouldn't have been. It was that reminder which had him pushing a hand down and rising before the smashed window. He turned and looked out. His face would be unrecognisable from such a height, but it granted him a fair view over the part of the city they were in. No further, because even though it was a tall apartment block, other buildings were taller.

A freeway ran over the district he was in, long stone struts stabbing down to support it, casting shadows over the roads and streets below that were not exactly bustling, but still busy. A hot dog vendor called his wares from a corner nearby while people stomped by with hands in pockets, hoods up, travelling with dogmatic determination not to make eye contact. It was a rough area. The building he was in made that clear, but several shops nearby were closed, windows blackened, smashed or boarded up, lingering `CLOSING SALE` signs hanging garishly on the inside in shades of red, blue and yellow.

Beyond it, the richer parts of the city could be seen, cleaner buildings in shades of white and pale grey, signs lit up on the side of towers and domed structures with glass rooftops. The highways fed into that, all unerringly connected to the centre of Vale like arteries and veins pumping blood to and from the heart.

_At least this part of the city isn't so busy. Though…_ Jaune looked down at himself. Black pants led into a grey skinsuit under a white vest. The White Fang uniform was nothing if not distinctive, and sure to get him noticed. The mask didn't help either. _I can't go out dressed like this. Can't do much of anything._

The white vest left him in black trousers and a grey top. It was still a little suspicious – the top was skin-tight and padded like a combat vest – but it wasn't quite as bad. No hood was a problem, but he could at least walk around without instantly being recognised. Even if huntsmen could walk freely with weapons, he hid Mors as best he could, stuffing it deep in one of his pockets and keeping a hand in there. His wallet was still on him, a limited amount of lien inside from when he and Blake had visited the village in Mistral. As a last hope, he scooped up the broken pieces of Blake's scroll. It was snapped firmly in the middle, glass shattered. Stuffing it in his pocket in the hopes it could be repaired, he faced the doorway.

It was now or never.

A few squatters looked his way as he stepped down the long staircases, but none bothered to look twice or comment. Jaune crept down and to the smashed open doors, looking out at the small number of people coming and going with his heart caught in his throat. Any one of them could raise the alarm, but he couldn't stay here any longer.

"Hot dogs!" the vendor called. "Get your hot dogs. Fresh cooked or boiled, cheap prices!"

Jaune's stomach grumbled. "Hey," he said, making the man spin around. Faunus, dog-eared and middle-aged, the man had brown eyes and dusty blond hair. "How much are they?"

"Fifteen for a regular, twenty-five for a jumbo." The faunus opened one of the tins on his cart, showing several long sausages in boiling water or brine. What he _didn't_ do was panic or scream that he'd seen a wanted criminal. "I have onions as well, only three extra."

"Two jumbos, please. With onions." Jaune fished out his wallet, wincing at how little he had. The vendor looked worried by that but relaxed once he produced enough, pulling out some soft bread rolls and using a two-pronged fork to fish out the sausages.

"There's ketchup on the side there. Thanks for your business."

Squirting some tomato ketchup onto both, he hurried away before the man could get too good a look at him. One free call might not mean anything, and he ducked and weaved through the people on the streets, refusing to make eye contact and keeping his head down. They did the same, many looking down at scrolls or staring doggedly ahead. Jaune slid into the first alleyway and leaned against the wall, turning slightly to the side so anyone looking in would just assume he was taking a break to eat.

The hot dog buns were a little stale, but the meat was processed calories and tasted wonderful. Balancing them both in one hand, he peeled the papery napkin back and bit deeply, careful not to spill even a single onion. His stomach rejoiced, ketchup covering his lips as he scarfed the first down and took more care to savour the second. With only twenty lien left to his name, he wasn't sure when there might be another.

Once he'd finished, he stepped back out into the crowd and kept moving, following the mass of people. Where, he wasn't sure, only that he hoped something would make itself available. The police would be all over the train station after the SDC one arrived missing half its cars, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out any stowaways might be in the abandoned buildings nearby. Best to be far away from that area.

Two police officers walked past him at that moment. Jaune tensed, body going rigid and finger teasing Mors' grip. They walked by. Didn't even notice him. His heart continued to race however, and he ducked left, stepping into a public toilet to catch his breath. Staggering to the sinks, he splashed water onto his face, then stooped low and drank from the tap, letting the water splash down into the palm of his hand and then up into his mouth.

_Too close._ The police hadn't reacted to him, but then they hadn't really seen him either. Like everyone else, they'd been going about their day. _I can't keep testing it. Sooner or later someone is going to look at my face. I need a way to cover it. _A toilet flushed behind him and the cubicle opened. Jaune kept his face down, bent over the sink as if washing it.

The man stepped up and took the sink two down from him, washing his hands and shaking them clean before leaving without using the dryer. That left only one cubicle door occupied, the little red sign on the lock in place, a jacket tossed haphazardly over the top of the door. Someone inside shuffled, pulling out toilet paper with a plastic rolling sound of a dispenser.

Jaune eyed the entrance, stepping away from the sinks with nervous energy. The entranceway curved around a solid dividing wall so that no one could see inside. Thus, he couldn't see out. The man in the cubicle dragged out more toilet roll. The chain was pulled, water flushing down. There was no time to hesitate, no time to think.

His fingers touched the jacket and clung on. He bolted. The brown bomber jacket with the fake-fur lining was torn off the top of the door. The man inside gasped and yelled but Jaune was already out, yanking it on and rushing into the crowd before his victim could button up and give chase. The fur lining offered some protection from his face being seen from the sides or back, and more importantly covered his grey uniform, leaving him in black pants and a brown jacket. Nothing unusual.

Jaune kept moving even as sounds of chaos echoed behind, sliding a hand into the pockets in search of treats. A packet of mints, two condoms – no wallet, sadly. Not a scroll. He turned left onto another road, popped a mint and counted his blessings.

It didn't take long. There weren't many of them…

/-/

Money.

He'd realised quickly that other than coming across Blake, his best bet was to get hold of some lien. With it, he could buy food and a hoodie, transportation or a room to stay at. Camping wasn't an option if he couldn't get out of the city, and no amount of wishing would let him conjure up a way to his mom and remaining sisters trapped somewhere in Vale. With money, he could buy a scroll, contact Adam and find a way out of the city. Without it, he was screwed.

What also became just as obvious was that regular employ would be beyond him, partly for the time involved and mostly because of who he was. Theft was going to be his only recourse, which was a problem since short of stealing a jacket foolishly left hanging on a door, he didn't know a damn thing about stealing. Any pickpocketing he tried would quickly become a mugging, and while he had Mors and _could_ hold someone up for money, if he didn't kill them then they'd go to the police and alert the whole city to his presence. He couldn't bring himself to kill an innocent person for the contents of their wallet.

The park he'd found his way to was peaceful so early in the day, only a few elderly couples travelling around along with some cyclists weaving through the cobbled paths. Jaune sat on a bench, reading through a crumpled newspaper he'd fished out a nearby trash can. It was smeared with grease and stained on the bottom corner with coffee, but the text was still legible.

_Beacon welcomes tomorrow's huntsmen. _

The headline, against all odds, wasn't about the SDC train heist. That had a brief mention on the front page along with a note to read more on page four. The main story was the beginning of the year for the academy nearby, with some brief mention of noticeable entrants. The two most prominently mentioned were Weiss Schnee and Pyrrha Nikos, only one of those names he recognised, and even then, only from working in the White Fang. Skipping to page four, he read through the continued story on the train heist.

It was incomplete. Apparently, the SDC hadn't announced anything yet so the journalist could only cover what was known, that a train arrived missing half its cars, that dust had been its cargo and the connector was cut. There was no mention of Chivalric Arms of a weapons shipment. According to the paper, the only thing stolen was dust.

His face didn't come until the final quarter of the paper, just before the sports and TV section. Jaune hissed at seeing the full-page picture of his face, while the page opposite held a timeline of his crimes and even a map of Remnant with his projected path traced along it. Like a timeline, little box-outs detailed what he'd done in each stage.

Some of them were more troubling than others.

_Murder of fifty-two in Mistral!?_

Jaune's fingers dug in deep, crinkling the paper. The arrow pointed to Mistral. The text read, _"Jaune Arc and White Fang attack, capture and execute fifty-two researchers and staff at medical facility. No ransom is asked for. No survivors."_

They hadn't killed that many! At best, he'd killed five or six, most of those being those military types that came in after. They'd been framed. Those bastards already killed their own people and he'd assumed it was to clean up loose ends, but now they'd gone and blamed him for the deaths. He read on, details covering how dangerous he was, how beyond help, painting the picture of a madman cutting a swathe of death from Atlas to Mistral. There was even a quote from the Chief of Police in Vale detailing how the city was on high alert and would not hesitate to mobilise all units to hunt him down if he dared approach Vale.

A medical facility, though? That was one way to put it. They hadn't mentioned who it belonged to and Chivalric Arms didn't feature in the article at all, nor further back in the newspaper. Rolling it up, he tossed it back into the bin and stood, unsure what to do next. He needed money but how to get it was a mystery. Armed robbery would put the city on edge, a mugging would reveal him, and he couldn't well use Null or anyone with aura would put two and two together. If he knew where the White Fang were based he could find them and ask for help, but they didn't exactly advertise their base of operations, and walking up to every faunus and flashing his mask would be a quick way to start a panic.

_Did Blake really abandon me…?_

He shook his head, shoving hands into pockets and storming ahead. No, she hadn't. He didn't have any proof. Maybe she went ahead to find the White Fang – there was good reason to do that without him. Maybe she wanted to sneak off to the CCT to make the call to Adam. Blake wouldn't do that! Not without so much as a word. Not while stealing his scroll. That was as good as dooming him and she _knew_ why he was doing this. She _knew_ about his family. Hell, she'd seen what those monsters were doing to them. Blake wouldn't turn on him after that.

_What other explanation can there be? No note, no waking me up and my scroll is gone. _

No. It wasn't like that. Couldn't be. Adam and Blake saved him. They'd helped him from day one.

The sounds of sirens cut into his thoughts, pushing him back off the park path and into the trees. Red and blue lights shone by, the cars tearing past the park entirely and heading deeper into the city for one of a thousand other reasons. He clutched his chest even so, gasping for breath with wide and frightened eyes.

"I can't keep jumping out my skin like this…"

Leaving the park and crossing the street, head down, Jaune made his way to the back shops present on every major street, the darker and less fortunate places. Not illegal – if Vale did have some underground criminal market, he had no idea where to find it – but the quieter shops who couldn't afford to be on the main street and had to settle for second best. Some were down alleyways, signs propped outside to announce their presence. One such shop promised key cutting and scroll unlocking and repair.

The dusty looking man behind the counter didn't look up as Jaune approached. He was reading a comic while a TV blared out behind him, rows and rows of blank keys, fancy scroll cases and accessories on display.

"Excuse me. My scroll took a bit of a bump." He slid the remains of Blake's onto the counter. "Do you think it's possible to repair it?"

"Hmm." The comic lowered as the man sat up, looking to the scroll and picking it up. Most of the glass had fallen away but lenses were cheap, or so he hoped. Turning it in his hands, the man tutted. "Took a bump? More like snapped in two. You can see the break point here. You were bending this, weren't you?"

But Blake had said one of the droids hit it. "Someone hit me with a bat the other night. It hit my jacket and didn't really do anything to me, but my scroll took it."

"This isn't blunt damage. Not cutting, either. You must have bent it when you pulled it out. None of my business how it happened." He pulled on a pair of glasses and leaned in close, drawing out some tiny tweezers. "Let me take a look. Might be too much, but if it's just the lens that snapped…"

Jaune rocked on his heels, eyes drifting to the television as the man worked. On it, a newscaster had just finished talking about Beacon – seemingly the biggest news all over the city. The next story came in and he froze, however, eyes widening at the familiar sight of a shield of arms with the letters CA beneath it. Jaune leaned forward.

"Hey. Do you mind if I turn up the volume?"

The man waved his hand to go ahead and Jaune swivelled the dial, bringing Lisa Lavender's words out in full.

"_News from Atlas as Chivalric Arms, leading arms and Atlas-tech manufacturer, faces an inquiry from the Atlas military. Though details are short at this time, Chivalric Arms' spokesperson and CEO has said that they intend to co-operate fully with Atlas and all associated representatives of the military, having nothing to hide. Chivalric Arms has also announced the prototype for the latest Paladin armoured anti-Grimm manned vehicle, and the Knight-class semi-automatous enforcement units, which have passed testing in Atlas and will be made available to wider markets early next year. Jacques Schnee of the SDC has spoken in favour of Chivalric Arms, calling this inquiry a gross oversight and extension of Atlas' interference with private and public business."_

Jaune gripped the edge of the counter, fingers digging into plastic. An inquiry wasn't going to go anywhere, not if Chivalric Arms had their fingers in the military. It was all just a show to deflect blame. The man tinkered on, oblivious.

"_This comes only a few weeks after the catastrophic incidents with the White Fang, which saw numerous people slain and wanted criminal Jaune Arc escaping Atlas for Mistral."_ The screenshot of Chivalric Arms' logo was replaced with a mugshot of himself. _"Current news has the fugitive in the wildlands of Mistral on a path last projected toward the southern tip of the island. Representatives from Menagerie have denounced the idea Jaune Arc will be seeking refuge with them and repeat that they are no haven for the White Fang." _

"Scary world, ain't it?" the man asked, pulling aside some wiring. "If it ain't Grimm it's White Fang, and if it ain't them it's some psychopath. What a world we live in…"

"Yeah." Jaune tugged his collar up. "How is it? You think it can be fixed?"

"Doesn't look good." A sigh. "Look, I don't mean to judge – I get people tryin' to sell me stolen goods all the time. Ain't none of my business to ask where you found this, but I doubt it's stolen." He waved half of it. "This is destroyed. I'm not talking accidental damage, either. The lens is snapped in two. The main unit is crushed – literally stamped on or smashed against a wall – and the what remains isn't in much better state. Someone wanted this thing trashed. And it is. You'd be better off buying new; fixing this would mean replacing almost everything anyway."

Destroyed? But why would Blake-?

"I can offer you some money for the spare parts." The man looked up. "Best I can do is…" The strangled gasp had Jaune looking into the man's eyes. They were wide and afraid, the man pulling back and glancing to the TV desperately, to the full screen image of the same face he was looking at right now. "Y-You're-"

"Don't move!" Jaune ripped Mors out, barrel aimed at the man's chest. He flinched back, shaking with abject terror. "Don't say a word." The man's lips sealed shut, frightened tears forming in his eyes. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn't what he wanted. Or needed.

What he needed was…

"Give me your wallet. Your scroll as well." The man hurried to obey, almost dropping his scroll and fumbling it onto the counter, flinching as Jaune snapped it up and on. "What's your password?"

"8764." He tested it. A picture of the man with a young girl on his lap appeared. They were smiling together, cheek against cheek. "P-Please don't kill me. I have a granddaughter. I'm nothing. You want money? Take it. Here!" Shaking badly, he upended his till, sprinkling lien out. "Take it all. It's yours!"

There wasn't much of it. The man's business wasn't doing well, and the day wasn't going any better. He was still richer than Jaune was and he shamefully scraped the lien toward him, stuffing it into his own wallet. _I'm sorry. It's for a good cause, I swear._

"Please. Please don't kill me!"

"I'm not going to kill…"

If he didn't, the man would talk. The news would be out by the end of the day that Jaune Arc was in Vale, and every officer and huntsman in the city would come bearing down on him. So would Atlas and Chivalric Arms, sending those people that had attacked in Mistral. If it weren't for Blake and Adam, he'd have never defeated them. If they came here, he'd be captured. Put back in the cage. Become Subject 000 once more.

People died all the time. Robbery gone wrong. No one would know. Just a dead man in a back-alley shop, his wallet and scroll stolen and till raided. It'd take them weeks to realise it was something out the ordinary and by that time he'd be long gone. He'd be safe, and that meant his mom and sisters would have a better chance. He could save them.

All he had to do was shoot this man. It wouldn't even be hard, not as hard as it had been to kill those two huntsmen. He probably didn't even have aura, and with Mors he could press the grip to the man's throat and puncture the blade out. This man wouldn't even realise he was dead. A single death to avoid more, just one more life taken. It wasn't his first, so what did it matter? All he had to do was pull the trigger. Cross that line.

_I promised I'd save them. _

_I'm not a murderer. _

_He'll raise the alarm if I don't._

_He's innocent._

_My family is counting on me._

_He has family too._

_Killing him will save me having to hurt others._

_Dad wouldn't kill him…_

Jaune's hand trembled. The barrel wavered. Even so his finger tightened, curling the trigger back a hair's breadth, just enough for it to click. The man behind the counter sobbed, closing his eyes and accepting death. His own face reflected on the screen behind, the words of the headline `Murderer` in bold beneath.

"Don't tell anyone I was here…" The man's eye cracked open. The smell of urine reached Jaune's nostrils. The barrel remained fixed on him, Jaune's face twisted into a fearsome snarl. "You never saw me. You never met me. Say anything – anything at all – and I'll find you. I'll find you and finish the job. Do you understand?"

"Mrmml," the man whimpered, nodding fervently.

Jaune ran. He snatched the scroll, turned and fled, bomber jacket flapping out behind him as he charged out the alley and away, smashing his shoulder into and through one man. He fell back and Jaune vaulted his body, dragging his collar up higher to cover his face until only a mop of blond hair remained. It didn't matter if he were making a scene - he could already hear the man he'd spared screaming for the police, fear pushing past the threats.

Jaune turned a corner, pushed through a couple walking hand in hand and power walked down the road. Sirens began to wail, cars blazing by the way he'd come, red and blue lights flashing. His own eyes remained fixed ahead, wide and shaking, manic. Wild. Eyes shining with angry tears, he dialled in a number with his thumb. _His_ number. The scroll rang.

"_Hello?"_

His breath caught. His eyes clenched shut. Blake sounded curious, quiet and confused. She didn't sound afraid, nor in danger or running for her life. Jaune's hand clutched the scroll tight, causing spiderweb cracks to spread out over the screen.

"_Hello?"_ Blake asked again. _"I think you have the wrong number."_

Blake hadn't gone looking for help. Blake hadn't been caught.

"_Excuse me? Who is this?"_

"Null."

"_Jaune…"_ His name came out in a rush of air, sharp and afraid. "_Jaune, please understand, I-"_

He ended the call. Before she could even think to call back, he thumbed over and blocked the number. Turned it off entirely after. Battery wasn't something he could charge and people knowing what his number was didn't mean anything. The police would quiz the man he'd stolen it from.

She'd abandoned him. Betrayed him. Sabotaged him. She'd destroyed her scroll, taken his and fled, throwing him to the wolves, trapping him in Vale with his face splashed everywhere, Chivalric Arms and Atlas on his tail and Adam too far away to help. Soon, the city would be in uproar. Soon, Atlas would come for him, and for the first time there'd be nowhere to run and no one to rely on.

"So be it," Jaune spat, eyes flickering with a myriad of colours. "If you want me, come and get me."

* * *

**So, the story is being bumped up an M on the request of a few people. I don't really think it needs it (keep in mind RWBY is a teen despite having and showing people being killed, Adam as an example) but hey ho, some people are getting really upset about it so I'll bump it up. **

**Also because someone asked (I thought I'd made this clear already, but I'll say it again) when Jaune is using Null, he also loses his aura. I definitely made that clear because otherwise there'd be no reason for him not to use it all the time and he'd be OP as anything, but since some people missed it, and the times he specifically mentioned not having aura when using it, I'll say it here again. When Null is activated, he has no aura, as does everyone else within range. That's a big deal since someone outside of said range could still use their Semblance and fire into it. The Semblance would fail if it entered, but a bullet in flight would remain in flight. **

**It's why that team from Chivalric Arms was so effective. Gas for bypassing it, tazer for locking up muscles and a team of trained soldiers, some to get close and force him to use Null, and others to fire tranqs the moment he does. **

* * *

**Next Chapter: 1****st**** Jaune**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	17. Chapter 17

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because **_**obviously**_** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

**Important Note: This chapter will be short. My 2-year-old puppy (Kali) was last night kicked by a horse, which did extensive damage to her lower jaw and forced me to rush her into an emergency vet, where I was stuck from 8pm to past midnight. Her lips needed to be stapled shut and she was given heavy painkillers. They say she should be okay, though I have to go back in 3-4 days to have the staples removed. **

**I have to keep a close hold on her today as she's come off the painkillers and is in a bit of a state, alternating between complete cowardice and bouts of sudden energy. I don't want her to run around and hurt herself like this. Blood everywhere in my front room. **

**Kali should be okay. It's unlike her to enter the fields with the horses, so I think one of them must have kicked through the fence as she passed by, which is just as rare because most of the horses love her and they're always rubbing noses through the fencing. Some even run along it with her, racing up and down. **

**Last night was very panicky, especially since thanks to Covid I wasn't allowed into the vet with her. That was one of the worst experiences ever since I always say it's an owner's responsibility to be there to comfort their pet no matter what, and especially if they do have to be put down. I saw people having to let their dogs and cats be taken away from them, clearly to never see them again, and without being there to comfort them when it happened. **

**It's been a hell of a difficult week for me and my dogs. I just want some peace and quiet with them right now.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 17**

* * *

General Ironwood slammed a hand down on the table, rattling the wood and making several of the councillors jump in alarm. One person who did not jump was Matthew Fields, CEO of Chivalric Arms. He stood in the middle of fifteen raised seats that surrounded him from left to right forming a semi-circle. The man, no older than thirty-five, watched with carefully blank eyes and a faintly smug smile. Dressed in a slate grey suit with a black shirt and red tie, the man looked calmer stood in the centre of an inquiry than anyone had a right to be. His blue eyes were fixed solely on Ironwood, his hands straight down at his sides and the crest of Chivalric Arms emblazoned on his breast pocket.

"You _will_ answer the Council's questions," Ironwood demanded.

"Chivalric Arms is prepared to cooperate with Atlas in all matters." Matthew's voice was smooth and cultured, slow and confident. "I've answered every question to the best of my ability."

"Ironwood," Sol chided.

"If this is cooperation, I'd hate to see obstinance," he snapped. "We have fifty dead bodies in Atlas in a facility that does not exist, and after cross-referencing their data, several have been found to work in your company." Ironwood leaned forward, the desk creaking under his weight. "Would you care to explain how this happened?"

"We are as much at a loss as you are, General. It is believed those employees acted independently."

"Truly? And where, pray tell, would they find the kind of money necessary to establish such a facility? Not just one, but numerous spread across Atlas as well. All utilising high-tech equipment including combat droids designed by Chivalric Arms."

"Chivalric Arms produces droids for private business as well as military. It is possible those were purchased through legal means and then diverted to criminal enterprise. We are in line with all relevant checks on hardware sold but cannot guarantee where it is sold after that fact. Naturally, we are investigating-"

"If your employees went AWOL, why did you not report them as missing?"

"That is something we are investigating among middle management. Disciplinary meetings are already underway as to how such an oversight could happen."

"An oversight? An oversight is a budget going missing or a project being put behind schedule. An oversight is a minor mistake missed by happenstance." Ironwood stared the man down. "An oversight is _not_ staff and equipment being diverted to human experimentation."

"General Ironwood!" The interruption came from several seats over, a pudgy and sweaty Councillor rising. The representative of the unions and commerce within the city, a powerful, wealthy and altogether unpleasant man. "Accusing an esteemed business of such practice without proof is not how this Council operates. You will retract that statement."

Ironwood stood, and the man immediately faltered, shaking faintly. "Shall I…?"

"Y-Yes."

"Those charges are as of yet unsubstantiated and also not laid against Chivalric Arms." It was Sol who cut in, motioning for Ironwood to sit with far more confidence. "That is what this inquiry aims to discover. Sit down. And Mr Fields, please forgive General Ironwood."

The CEO smiled charismatically. "There's nothing to forgive."

Grinding his teeth together, James sat, foot tapping on the floor as questions were plied by other members. They were all of them banal, asking Fields' thoughts on policy, the White Fang, and the charges of experimentation. Each was so straight forward the man had no problem answering, waxing poetic about Chivalric Arms' contribution to the Kingdom of Atlas.

The Council of Atlas had already made up its mind; that much was clear. Divided into fifteen seats, some political and subject to voting, others stationed by position or rank, the Council rarely agreed on much. He claimed two seats, both granted automatically to the General of the army and the headmaster of Atlas Academy. There were those who rebelled against such a practice, seeing it as power without consequence, calling the practice undemocratic. Ironwood snorted. As if by Jacques Schnee _buying_ advertising, influence and votes made _him_ any better.

"Chivalric Arms refutes the accusations, Councillors. Though it goes without saying we are troubled by certain members of our staff being present at this facility, we believe ourselves to be victims in this. As I understand it, members of the military have also been found present. It may well be that we are both being targeted."

"Well said," a councillor remarked, as obviously in their pocket as he had been when, in the first minute of this inquiry, he'd stood up and decried the investigation as a farce. Money could buy a lot of things but apparently subtlety wasn't among them. "I move that we dismiss these accusations as baseless. Our time is better spent focusing on the Vytal Festival."

"Aye."

"Agreed."

Ironwood banged his cybernetic hand down again, this time gentler. The sound still reverberated and silenced those speaking. Once more, Fields' attention turned his way, the faintest flicker of annoyance on the handsome man's face.

"The inquiry is in process," James spat. "To dismiss it now without evidence is to prove ourselves incompetent." He glared down the man who had suggested it. "You claim that Chivalric Arms has conducted its own internal investigations. Is that correct?"

"It is, General."

"Then this Council would see the results of it."

"We have already released our findings to the esteemed council," he said, gesturing to the folders they'd received. Ironwood's was open, but he noticed that only about half the council had bothered to look through them.

"You've released the cliff notes. I want to see the original investigation logs."

"I object to this!"

Disgust rose in his stomach like acid. Turning, he let his eyes rest upon Jacques Schnee himself. Dressed today in a suit of icy blue, he was sat back in his seat, chin resting upon one hand and eyes narrow flints of ice. Behind him stood his secretary, a waspish woman with a perpetually snide smile and reflective glasses. As he stood, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. He nodded, coughing into his fist and stepping up.

"What General Ironwood asks sets a poor precedent for our Kingdom. If our Government can force its way into the private goings-on of a trusted company, what is to stop us doing the same for all who cross us? For business to thrive, the economy must remain free."

"I'm not suggesting a hold on the economy, _Councillor_. I am asking to see this investigation the representative speaks of."

Jacques picked up and brandished the thin folder. "We've already seen it, General. Your suggestion that we need more only implies a lack of trust in a respected company that I personally find disturbing. There are laws in place to protect all citizens and entities of Atlas. If we overstep them here, what is to stop us doing more in the future?"

"If the SDC isn't accused of _human experimentation_ then you've nothing to fear."

"This has nothing to do with the SDC," Jacques lied. "I am speaking of the totalitarian nature of your suggestion. Chivalric Arms has provided us all the details we have asked for. Intruding into their affairs in so heavy handed a manner will only disrupt their operations further."

"That is true," Matthew said. "Our investigation has already frozen several departments and cost us over one point two million lien. We accept and understand the necessity of this but would ask the Council of Atlas to allow our employees some rest from scrutiny." He stepped forward, hand to his chest in self-sacrifice. "I am here. You may question me in their stead."

"Well said," Jacques complimented. "Business must allow to run. The Kingdom's stability comes first. We have indulged this inquiry and I believe we have all the information we need." Smirking his way, Jacques took his seat. "I suggest we move to a vote to dismiss charges."

Chivalric Arms walked out thirty minutes later.

/-/

"You were instructed to leave the investigation be."

"Some investigation," he replied, looking up from his desk. "And what brings you here, Sol? I was under the impression you'd be busy pushing me to launch dust missiles at a young man wronged by our Kingdom."

"Your temper does you no credit, James. It also shows how you can't be objective in this."

"Objective?" Ironwood barked a laugh, slamming his fist down. "You want to talk about objectivity? Oh, Sol. That. Is. Hilarious." Snarling, he kicked back, knocking his chair to the floor and looming over the man who, to his credit, refused to back down. "How objective was that inquiry back there? We couldn't _wait_ to dismiss charges. That was a farce!"

"The evidence was lacking."

"Their men were found dead at the scene!"

"As were ours, James," Sol snapped back. "Shall we arrest the army now? Throw ourselves into a cell and guard ourselves lest we escape?" The retired General pushed past him, helping himself to a glass of brandy from Ironwood's drinks locker. He unscrewed the top and poured it out, back to him. "You say we're too eager to call them innocent. I say you were too eager to find them guilty. I can understand wanting someone to punish, James, but let's make sure we're punishing the right people." The bottle clinked down and Sol turned, toasting once before drinking. "We are not barbarians. It's innocent until proven guilty."

Ironwood scoffed and crossed his arms. "Does that also apply to Jaune Arc?"

"No." Sol's eyes flashed dangerously. He slammed the empty glass down. "It might have done before – I agree with you, James, his circumstances are tragic – but tragedy doesn't excuse what he's done. The boy is a murderer, and worse he's _our_ murderer. Our murderer currently set loose in the capital city of our greatest ally! What happened, James?"

"His last position was Mistral. Our intelligence suggested he was headed to Menagerie."

"Well something changed!" the former General snapped. "Military intelligence is as bloody useful as ever, I see. This is a disaster, James. Make no mistake." He pointed to him, unsettled. "The Vytal Festival is the one place I don't want an unhinged man with a Semblance capable of killing anyone in its radius and the motives to use it."

"He doesn't have reason to involve anyone at the tournament. His movements so far have all been to secure his siblings."

"Yes. Leaving a swath of bodies in his wake. And what's to say something hasn't changed? He's been seen cooperating with the White Fang. Even if he doesn't have reason to interfere, they do. No. This has gone on long enough. You were given ample opportunity to stop him in Atlas. Don't think I'm not aware you sent Winter Schnee to Mistral to continue the chase even after I ordered you not to."

Ironwood raised a brow. "You're not my superior anymore, Sol. I don't take orders from you."

"No. But you do from the Council." Sol let a letter slap down onto the desk. It was sealed with the sigil of Atlas and Ironwood stared at it like a snake.

"When was this decided? Why wasn't I invited?"

"It was unanimous. Your two votes would not have swayed anything."

"My presence is still mandated."

"We write the laws." Sol tapped the letter with his finger. "I'll spare you the effort here. You are moving to Vale immediately. Officially, you are to reinforce security around the Vytal Festival in response to unsavoury action in the city."

Ironwood let out an angry rumble. "And unofficially?"

"Find him. Kill him. There's to be no trial, no time wasting and no more chances. He is to die before he can cause a tragedy that will have Atlas as its cause."

"Is that what we are now, Sol? Murderers?"

"It's what we've always been, James. We do what we must for the stability of Atlas, be that defending its borders, weakening its enemies, or cleaning up its mistakes. You teach huntsmen to kill monsters. You shouldn't have any problem with _this_ monster."

"I'm disappointed. I thought better of you."

"And I of you, James." Sol walked past him to the door, never once looking back. "I didn't realise when I pushed for your promotion that you were so weak willed." The door swished open and he stepped out. "See this done or the Council's next meeting might be to discuss your replacement."

/-/

"I'm sorry, sir. I really am."

"You've done nothing wrong, Winter." Ironwood offered her a tight smile as he stepped into his command centre. The Ace-Ops stood to attention and each saluted. "At ease. The Council has pardoned Chivalric Arms. The inquiry has revealed nothing."

"Nothing?" Marrow squawked. "But there were dead bodies!"

"All an accident," he snapped. "Or happenstance. I lost track of what excuses they gave."

"The traitors go that far, then," Vine said. "Troubling."

"I can't tell how many were traitors and who was bribed or just disinterested. There were some who had made their minds up from the start. They were there to win votes, not to see anything done."

"Atlas always rides a nationalistic wave before the Vytal Festival," Clover remarked. "The competition is good for peace, but it breeds competitiveness in ugly ways. I imagine the public want us to be seen as better than the other Kingdoms. Finding Chivalric Arms guilty of such heinous crimes doesn't fit the narrative."

"And the narrative is votes," Harriet said. "Reminds me why I joined the army instead."

The others muttered their agreement. Ironwood didn't but felt it inside. The Council was a necessity and something to be admired when it worked, but like all things, it was open to abuse. The theory, as with all democracy, was to allow everyone a voice. The problem was that it had clearly become a system in which certain people had more of a voice than others, namely those with the money to throw around.

"I doubt Jacques would need the money or influence CA could offer," Winter said. "It's likely he acted because if we allowed an inquiry here, he knows he might be next if an incident happens in one of his mines. He was protecting his own interests."

"My thoughts exactly," he said. "Unfortunately, everyone was busy protecting their interests to the point CA was allowed to walk away. Elm, I want you to watch Matthew Fields. I don't want him to so much as go to the bathroom would an update on what he's eaten beforehand." The woman saluted and hurried off. "Marrow, cross-reference the dead with what we know of this investigation." He tossed the young man the file from Chivalric Arms. "If they won't show us their investigation, we'll conduct one ourselves."

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Vine, I want you to look over the other Councillors. See if any have made any surprise purchases of late. Anything they shouldn't be able to afford on the salary they earn."

"Sir." He saluted and left.

"Clover. Winter. I want you to prepare teams to accompany us to Vale. I want everyone checked, double checked, triple checked and then run through a blender. Every single person needs to have their loyalties in place. Whether it's CA or not, our enemies will be looking to push their own people forward. If any come across suspicious, have their names on my desk as soon as possible."

"It'll take time, sir. We need to bring a lot of people to Vale…"

"Then we'd best get started." Winter stood, saluted and marched away, leaving Clover to smile exasperatedly and snap a quick salute as well before hurrying to catch up.

"And me, sir?" Harriet Bree asked.

"Harriet. I want you personally guarding our guests. They shall be coming to Vale with us."

"Sir, is that wise? I don't mean to question your orders but if we bring the sisters we have to Vale, we paint a target on ourselves." Despite her training, there was some small amount of unease. He could understand it since training meant so little against Null. "Arc has no reason to trust us and every reason to try and take them away. We're inviting him to attack us."

"I understand that, Specialist, and yet if we leave them here and they're captured, we'll be giving him reason to return to Atlas. I'd rather he attack us in person than wage war on our city."

Harriet closed her eyes and saluted. "Yes sir…"

/-/

Sirens wailed in the streets. Red and blue lights flashed. People hurried to and fro, heads down and shoulders hunched. The rain that had begun to patter down grew in intensity, blanketing the city in a thick mist and driving those that could into cover. Others hurried on their way, umbrellas up or raincoats pulled tight around their bodies.

Jaune hurried with them, fur collar up over his head. The jacket formed a tunnel before his head, letting him see another patrol car hurtle by and a narrow field of vision of people racing through the soaked streets. His shirt hung damply to his body, his socks were drenched, and a pool of water squelched with every step.

Hunger.

It gnawed at him. He hadn't dared stop to eat the rest of the day, determined only to put as much distance between himself and the scene of the crime as possible. The news was out, the police on high alert. He'd spotted cordons at the entrances and exits of the city checking everyone who tried to leave. The hospitals were also guarded. Lost and unwilling to risk asking for directions, he made his way in what was hopefully the direction he'd come, back toward the poorer side of the city where he might find shelter. The rain was convenient for letting him hide his face without looking suspicious. It also fit his mood perfectly.

_Things wouldn't be this bad if I'd killed that man._ The thought kept spinning in his head and stomach, making him feel sick with doubt. The fact he could think it at all bothered him. _I can't kill innocent people. That's not who I am._

If it meant saving his family, though. Could he do it then? If not, then when – and where was the difference? It was okay to kill people from Chivalric Arms but not other people? Wasn't it all just killing in the end? If a police officer tried to arrest him and thus end any hope of saving his family, would he kill that man even if he were doing his job and what he thought was the right thing?

"I'm not going back there. I can't…"

The streets became dirtier, the roads cracked. Neon signs in the poorer district promised good times, easy women, and gambling. Avoiding those places that might see his face, he slid up to a poorly lit food stand instead. It was one of those white trailers with the side open and an elderly man and a younger girl working inside. There was a short queue out the front, some of those people wobbling from having had too much alcohol.

Hunching his jacket up over him and pulling it tight around his neck, Jaune joined the back and waited. The steam from the grill warmed his hands while the smell of sizzling bacon and beef burgers had his stomach grumbling. The queue moved as another person took their order and left. It was well-lit inside and he hopes that would contrast with the dark outside and provide some small cover. Another person took their order and left. Jaune slid up, covering his hair and staring pointedly at the menu instead of the girl.

"Double cheeseburger," he rattled off. The thought of ordering some sofa was tossed aside. It'd be nice, but he could drink water from public restrooms if he had to. The girl asked if he wanted onions and he nodded silently, fishing out the stolen wallet and opening it up.

A young girl stared back at him, her picture pinned to the inner left compartment. Jaune swallowed and moved past it, folding the flap back to pull out some lien and slide it onto the counter. The woman took it and handed back some change, then accepted the hefty bun from her father and wrapped it in some napkins.

"Here you go, sir."

"Thanks." Jaune took it and turned back, only to freeze and notice the queue that'd formed behind. He ducked right before any could notice his face, biting down into the cheeseburger both to sate his hunger and hide himself. The people out here seemed like they were out for the nightlife, or even finishing it in some cases.

They chatted and laughed and started fights with one another, while others sat hunched against walls cradling their heads and a few wobbled and weaved their ways drunkenly down the pathways arm in arm, singing or laughing with no regard for how loud they were. Polishing his meal off in record time, he ignored the lowly pang asking for seconds and started looking for an abandoned building to call his own.

Why was it like this? Why was he homeless? His dad earned good money and held a job. He'd studied in school. His sisters had started to pick out their own jobs as well, and mom earned extra repairing clothes in her free time. Their family hadn't been wealthy, but they'd had a cosy home back in Ansel and everything they could have wanted. Warm food, comfortable beds and spending money whenever they did the chores to earn it. And yet here he was, tired and wet and hungry, counting lien to be able to afford to eat the next day and only having any at all because he'd taken it from a man at gunpoint.

Blake's fault.

It wasn't all her fault but being trapped here alone was and he'd be damned before he forgot it. _I trusted her. How could she-? No._ He scrunched his eyes shut and stopped to catch his breath. _Forget her. Forget all about her. She's unimportant. Literally nobody. All I care about is finding my family. Fuck her. Fuck Blake. I hope she rots!_

Jaune drew himself up to a boarded and condemned building. The doorway had once had wooden slats over it but those had been broken. Peering inside, he considered pulling out his new scroll for light but decided against it. For one, it'd only expose him, and secondly there was no way here for him to charge it up again. The best he could hope for there was to find a charge lead and somewhere with a public station. Those were usually on trains or restaurants, but he might be able to sneak into a library or find a socket somewhere.

Glass shards crunched underfoot. Light reflected off labels of bottles of beer and the glistening syringes that he avoided as best he could. His hand reached out to steady himself on a wall before he thought better of it and kept them close into his side. The ground floor was empty and a mess, likely used for a party or just somewhere to toss your empty bottles. Used-building syndrome, they called it. Where people would see a broken-down place and no longer think anything of making it worse.

Crunching his way over to the back, he found the staircase and slowly made his way up it. Here, there were more recent signs of inhabitation. An opened can of beans tossed aside, a ratty and tattered blanket, a pair of rats that hissed at him from the rotting meat left in the corner of the room.

Jaune went higher still, climbing over some discarded furniture and a dirty bathtub covered in cobwebs and huge spiders. Getting over it all was an exercise in balance and he had to vault up and cling to the lip of the doorway, kicking his feet to swing himself under and through. His boots landed loudly on the other side, followed by a loud curse nearby.

"Fuck off! I found this place!" His hand snapped down to Mors, drawing and pointing it at a man in a ragged coat sat by a dust-powered stove. The man flinched and held his hands up. "Fuck," he hissed, "C-Calm down. I won't want no trouble."

A beggar. A homeless – or another homeless person. Jaune supposed he was as well now. His hand trembled, finger itching to pull. He'd taken a risk once already and paid for it. _Just kill him,_ a dark part of him whispered. _Your family is more important. Kill him and deal with it later._

Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Jaune dragged his hands down.

"I won't want trouble either," he said. "This place big enough to share?"

"Y-Yeah. Just the two of us." The man slouched, not entirely relaxed but maybe giving up on having a choice in his fate at all. "Area is run by some people that don't like our kind. They run out the homeless every now and then. Says it drives down business."

"Lovely people," Jaune remarked, remaining where he was.

"Might as well come warm yersen," the man said. "Not like I can do anythin' to ye."

The man had rough and patchy skin, clearly suffering from a condition beyond his poor living standards. His teeth were blackened, his fingernails thick with grime and dirt. He was human for once and not a faunus, though it was hard to tell with how ragged he looked. The coat he wore was actually two different coats, a blue one that only reached up to his arms and was made for someone at of a child's size, and another tossed over the top with fresh holes cut for the arms. Whatever he could get a hold of, obviously.

Jaune moved over and slowly knelt by the stove. He kept one foot bent and in front to better give him time to move if he had to. The man didn't look capable of much, but then neither did he. Appearances didn't always match up.

The old man's weary eyes met his. "Yer that killer," he said bluntly.

"I am."

He breathed a ratty sigh. "Gonna kill me?"

"Not if you don't try tell anyone about me."

"Tell? Hah." The man's laughter was scratchy and hoarse. "Who would I tell? Who'd listen? I could be dyin' on the edge of the road and people would cross the street to avoid me. Then go back to their warm homes, food and televisions to tell themselves they're good people. Fuck 'em. If you're here to cause trouble, ain't no business o' mine."

Jaune stared, trying to tell if the man was being honest or not. It was hard to make out anything. "You're not scared?"

"Been dead for twenty years. Just been waitin' for someone to pull the trigger. Might as well be you." He smiled toothily. "Though tell you what, you give me some food and I'll keep quiet. How about that?"

"I don't have any…"

"Ha." The man's grin grew. "Figures. Guess I'll do it for free then. Got to be one person in this fucking city willin' to offer some charity. Might as well be me." He tossed over an old bottle full of water. "Filled it from the taps," he said. "Help yersen. Not like it costs anythin'."

He didn't feel safe drinking from a bottle with someone so clearly sick, but he didn't have much choice. Opening the cap, he poured some out onto his hands and supped from that. Only enough to sate his thirst. Screwing the cap back on, he handed it back. "Thank you."

"Polite for a murderer…"

"I wasn't always one."

"Is the way of things, ain't it? Wasn't always homeless mysen, either."

"How'd that happen?"

"Too long a story. Too fuck'n drab. That's mah corner." The man pointed to the corner furthest away from the windows. There were some clothes there. Not much and nothing worth anything. "Pick another and sleep there. Or don't. Not got much on me worth takin but can't stop you. Just do me a favour and kill me first."

"I'm not going to…"

"What's the matter?" he jeered. "Not good enough for ya?"

"I'm only killing those who have wronged my fam-" He sighed. "I'm after those who wronged me, not people like you."

The beggar laughed hoarsely. "Fuck'n rich! Ah kid, if I went after all those tha' wronged me, half the city'd be dead by mornin'. How many more you gonna take with you?"

"As many as I have to," he replied. "But… as few as I can help."

"Ha. And how much can you help who goes after ya?"

Jaune stared at the ground. "Not much."

"Is what I thought." The man stood with a creak and crack of bones and joints. "I'd get gone by mornin' if I were you. About time they scoured the building. Last time they found me 'ere, said they'd break mah legs if they found me again."

"And yet you're still here…"

The man laughed bitterly. "Where else can I go?"

They were in the same boat. Jaune breathed out sharply as the man left, sitting more comfortably and warming his hands by the little stove already running out of dust. He'd gotten away for now but this wouldn't last, and he couldn't spend every day trying to survive or nothing would be done. _I need to find Chivalric Arms._ The carriage on the train had their weaponry. It must have been a shipment to reinforce their facility. Find that, or where they were headed, and he could break in. Adam would have called for a subtler approach, but that was gone now. Blake had taken that chance away.

Just as he couldn't leave though, so too couldn't the weaponry from the train. Risky as it was, he had to go back to it. The police would be there too, investigating his entry. There'd be no avoiding that fact. Jaune glared down at the hot metal as the last of the dust was spent, dimming it and swallowing the abandoned building back in icy cold and wet rain. His fingers curled, clenching tight as he pulled his hands in for warmth.

If the police and the huntsmen didn't get in his way, things would be fine. If they did...

The sirens continued to wail outside. Jaune dragged his knees up to his chest and huddled into the corner closest to the shattered windows, leaning his head on the cold stone. Dark blue eyes stared ahead unblinking, fingers caressing the metal of Mors. Sleep didn't come, only a cold and dangerous calm that settled over him like a cloak. Whatever came would come, and he'd deal with it as he had to.

_I can't afford to fail. I won't fail._

His eyes dimmed and slowly closed.

_No matter what it costs._

/-/

Blake stared at the scroll.

"Hello?" an obnoxious voice sounded, a widely smiling face appearing reflected in the surface. "You okay, partner? Been staring at that thing for almost an hour now." The blonde's smile grew. "Waiting for someone to call?"

A different blonde's face flashed before her eyes and she flinched.

"Blake?"

"No. It... It's nothing."

The scroll went down. Her one attempt to contact him had failed. Blocked. In a way she was relieved, because she wasn't sure what she was meant to say or how – if at all – she could explain her actions.

It was better this way. A clean cut. A clean break.

"Doesn't look like nothing…"

"Leave her alone, Xiao-Long. Can't you see you're crowding her? Really, you're as irritating as your sister." Weiss Schnee, the last person she'd expected to be on a team with, came to her defence, though more for her own purposes than any desire to help. "No doubt Blake had seen the news lately. That psychopath working with the White Fang is in Vale. Who wouldn't be concerned?"

Blake's heart lurched and her eyes snapped to the window. Nothing. No one there. Beacon was defended, away from the city and quiet. It was her first real night at Beacon and she was already jumping at shadows. To be fair, if one of those contained Jaune then she'd be dead before she could get a word out. His Semblance would make sure of that. It would kill all of them, all of Team RWBY.

"Blake…?"

They were all looking at her. Coughing, she forced a smile.

"Sorry. What was that?"

"We were talking about that criminal," Ruby said. "What do you think? Yang was saying that if he's hurt all those people before, it should be huntsmen and huntresses that go after him."

"No!" Her vehemence surprised them. "I mean…" Closing her eyes, she forced herself to calm down. "It's best left to the authorities. They…" Bile rose in her throat. "He's just one man. H-How tough can he be? It's best we stay away. Far away. Stay in Beacon."

"You want us to hide here out of fear of some killer?" Weiss demanded.

"Yes. He might be after you," she lied. "He's working with the White Fang after all."

"Hmph. As though I would ever be afraid of someone like him."

_You should be. Jaune would have no problem with your glyphs. He wouldn't even notice them._ Ironically, he'd have no problem with Weiss either, if he even recognised her as a Schnee. That wasn't the real problem. If he saw her… no. Clean break. They were done. Blake Belladonna was a huntress-in-training at the Academy of Beacon. She'd made her choice and he... she'd known he wouldn't, couldn't, make the same.

There had never been a Blake Belladonna who worked within the White Fang, nor one that ever knew a man like Jaune Arc. They'd never known one another. He… He was just one man. One among hundreds of thousands. A stranger.

It was no longer her business.

* * *

**Okay so this chapter actually didn't end up shorter at all. My puppy is so woozy she's just laid by my side all day letting me write. Poor thing. So, I've had people asking me why I bash Blake. The question amuses me greatly since go back less than a year and people were instead asking why I love Blake so much I cram her into every story imaginable. "Stop favouring Blake! Stop making Blake every pairing! Stop kissing Blake's ass!"**

**Now it's "Omg you Blake basher!"**

**Huh…**

**Thing is, I don't hate Blake. I genuinely think she is **_**the**_**_ most important_ character in all of RWBY for the first three seasons. Nothing happens without Blake making it happen, be it drawing the characters into Roman, drawing them into the White Fang and even drawing Adam to Beacon. Without Blake in the show, RWBY is just a bunch of girls studying in school, then the school is randomly attacked and then the team probably wanders off to Vacuo with Team CFVY to continue their education, because there's no motive for them to chase after anyone. **

**It's Blake who provides almost all the plot and story in the first three seasons. Everyone else is just dancing to her tune, which is fortunate because without her, the show would have fallen apart. Ruby, Weiss and Yang barely have reason to do anything other than stay in Beacon and study. They'd react if attacked, but there's no reason for Ruby to just stand up and say, "Kay, let's go find and stop bad guys now!"**

**After all, Ruby's goal is to become a huntress and she's in Beacon. Job done. All she, Weiss and Yang have to do is graduate and they're gravy. It's Blake who can't handle that and has to run off to deal with the WF, dragging Team RWBY into the plot. In a way she's like Gandalf ( a very vague, edgy way, lol ) and Ruby is Frodo. Ruby may be the main character, but it's Blake who drags her into the plot until Ruby can find her own reason to be involved. Obviously Pyrrha-mir of Gondor makes an appearance too. **

**Anyway, that means I genuinely love Blake's use as a character, which is why she ends up being important for making plotlines work. In this case, take Blake out and Team RWBY and Beacon never has any reason to interact with Null, and he has no reason to interact with them. Again, Blake is working her poor little butt off to make the series work. **

**Do I think she's a hypocrite? Sure. Do I think she's at times selfish? Hells yes. Do I dislike her for that? Nope. I love that she's not just the usual goody-two-shoes look at me, aren't I perfect, protagonist we're used to seeing. Blake is a jaded little bundle of problems and psychosis, and I genuinely like that. As a person I'd dislike such blatant hypocrisy, but then I'd also hate Roman's attitude as a real life person.**

**As fictional characters they're awesome.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 8****th**** June**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **

**Yes, I wrote "Jaune" instead of June. It happens more than I care to admit. **


	18. Chapter 18

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because **_**obviously**_** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 18**

* * *

The homeless man neither robbed nor abandoned him, making the guy a better friend than Blake despite knowing one another less than a day. There was no chatter, however. No breakfast. The man rose and made his way to the doorframe to, in his words, ask for people's kindness. He didn't look like he expected any, or enough to make a difference. There was none Jaune could offer either, needing every lien. He'd considered giving the man some to buy him a proper jacket with a hood to hide under, but leaving aside the risk of him running, there was also the fact no reputable shop would let him enter, whether or not he had money.

In the end they went their separate ways. The old man to beg and Jaune sneaking out with his collar puffed up and hands stuffed in his pocket, doggedly avoiding eye contact as he made his way to the train station. It hadn't been long enough for everything to be moved, so the Chivalric Arms containers full of droids should still be around. Hopefully. There was a good chance they'd have abandoned them the moment they realised the train was compromised.

The sun had risen over Vale but thanks to the torrential downpour the night before the streets were covered in a thick mist that had cars rumbling by with beams on. It was beginning to lift slowly, allowing some light to filter through, but the morning was cold and crisp, and he was thankful for the stolen bomber jacket.

Sadly, the poor weather meant there were no food stalls setting up, and he didn't feel brave enough to enter a diner with his face exposed. Ignoring the now familiar pangs in his stomach, he trudged on, head down and hunched as though reading a scroll, passing by people going the other way, few paying attention to the world around them.

He'd been wrong to call the place Blake abandoned him a train station. That implied its use for public and passengers, whereas the area loosely cordoned off by police cars was more an industrial shipping yard, albeit for trains instead of boats. There were two large cranes, six warehouses and a stack of brightly coloured cargo containers with various logos on the side. None of those were CA, but he saw SDC, Melbo, Gula Foods, and a few others he recognised as well-known companies of various natures.

The police weren't keeping quite the watch on the area they had before. They knew he'd escaped it now and must have thought he wouldn't be coming back. There were four cars in total but two were empty – the officers might have been inside. The other two were parked end to end in front of the main entrance, red and blue lights flashing slowly but without the usual siren. The officers were sat on their hoods chatting with only an eye for the road they were blocking.

Jaune skirted left, travelling around a perimeter chain link fence with wickedly sharp and rusty barbed wire coiled messily across the top. Even with aura he didn't fancy his chances with that; it looked old enough to deliver multiple diseases with a nick. It didn't take long to find a broken line of fencing, however. Whether it was used by thieves or kids looking for adventure was unknown, but the linking had disconnected from the vertical post it attached to and curled back on itself, letting him crouch and squeeze through. It was all concrete floor on the other side, probably so the heavy machinery wouldn't get stuck. Once he was in, he hurried over to a thin aisle between two containers, sliding along it. No alarm was raised.

_I saw how Adam conducted raids. I just need to think of this as one._

The White Fang usually relied on numbers and military tactics – at least as best as they could – but they still held the same basics. He had to have an objective in mind, a goal to reach it and then he had to keep moving. Adam had always been clear on the value of momentum, especially when the White Fang needed to be in and out before the enemy could report them. The same held true here. He had to get his work done before more police could arrive.

In terms of goals, he'd gone for something simple. Less chance of mucking that up. CA had decided to ship their weapons into Vale through legal means, which meant there had to be records. Both of where they came from and where they were headed. He could either find those or, if the containers were still here, find them instead and wait for CA to come collect them, sneak on a vehicle, and hitch a ride back to their base.

The latter was the harder for obvious reasons, but there wasn't much more he could plan for. If it went wrong, he'd just have to fight CA and find out where they were. With any luck the drivers would just be that and he wouldn't need to do much more than wave a gun at them. _The simpler the plan, the less chance I can muck it up. At least I have one now._

Two men in high-vis jackets and helmets strolled on by talking loudly to one another about incoming orders. Jaune listened only as long as it took to not hear CA by name, then slipped out once they were gone and rushed to the closest warehouse. The lights inside were on but dim. The doors were closed.

The warehouse he'd chosen was up against the chain links and visible from outside, so he ran down the side quickly to test the side entrance, cursed at finding it locked and then kept going, slipping around the corner and away from eyesight of anyone walking by outside. There had to be cameras around, but he'd just need to hope they weren't automatic or that the operator hadn't noticed him. Moving along the back of the warehouse, he paused and looked up at a window a good ten feet up. It was narrow, wider than it was tall with vertical slats every few feet. The thing was open, though.

There was nothing to climb off. Jaune wasted a minute looking before giving up and moving on. Standing in one spot for too long was too dangerous. If he stood around trying to think up an answer, someone would find him. There had to be more than one way in.

A ladder provided it. Not one he could move, but a ladder sealed onto the back corner of the warehouse going up toward the roof. Without thinking, he started to climb it, feet clanging on each rung as he raced up, hoping speed would be better than stealth. The warehouse was tall, incredibly so, and soon he was high above the fencing, gripping by wind that whipped his jacket out behind him. Hunching tight against the rungs to steady himself, he took the final ten metres at a slower pace before hauling himself up and onto the gently slanted roof.

He crawled up it, afraid every step would _clang_ on the metal. There at the top, protected from rain by two protrusions like verandas, lay an open skylight. It was either to dissipate smoke or allow air in, but either way it was his entry. Crawling up to it and peering down inside, showed a long drop to the concrete below, along with stacks upon stacks of metal containers, a mezzanine walkway he wasn't convinced he could swing to from his angle, several offices kept up on that walkway, and two parked forklifts in the corner next to a stack of wooden pallets. There were no employees inside, be those CA or from the cargo yard.

_Keep moving. Don't stop for anything._

Clinging to the edge of the opening, Jaune let his legs fall in, hanging from the roof by his hands. His feet swung below, past that and after a long drop the concrete. With aura, he'd probably survive it, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to take it. With his hands already hurting from the cold metal, he kicked with both feet, swinging himself forward and back to gain momentum. The stack of crates ahead looked close enough to reach. Swinging harder, aware that his grip was already failing, Jaune lurched and _kicked up_ one last time, letting go.

He misjudged the distance.

The cargo crate he'd been aiming for didn't even come within reach and gravity took hold with a sudden drop in his stomach. His feet hit the container two further down, boots clanging loudly down and pain jolting up his legs. Buckling to one knee, he steadied himself against the container and gritted his teeth, riding out the pain. Aura had prevented any injury, but it hurt. Bad.

_Better a six metre drop than twenty,_ he thought looking back over the edge of the container. He'd made it, and judging from the lack of anyone shouting out, his not-so-quiet entrance had gone unnoticed.

"I'm in. Time to have a look around."

Catching his breath near the top of one stack of containers, he let his eyes flick up and down the stacks opposite, reading through the logos on the sides. There were a wide range, some specific companies like food manufacturers or pharmaceuticals, but others the generic shipping brands that rented the containers. There was, of course, a few SDC containers as well. Those were no doubt packed with dust. Unless CA had snuck their products in SDC containers. That train was only meant to be dust as well.

Climbing down his stack, he approached one of those on the ground floor and tested the metal handles. The long vertical bars reached up from the foot of the container to the top, and after playing with them for a few seconds he realised they could be dragged and folded outward on hinges, which seemed to be the method of unlocking the containers. Stiff as they were, he got the first one open with a loud grating of the metal door against concrete. The interior was stacked with wooden crates instead of killer robots. He was about to close it before thinking better.

"Mors uses dust and it's valuable…" Dust was power, fuel and ammunition, making it the primary target of every White Fang raid. More than that, it could be easily sold. There was no way to know if dust was stolen or not, and literally everyone needed it.

Working the wooden crate off took a few minutes of jamming Mors' blade into the seam and working it up and down like a crowbar. Adam had chosen the weapon well and it held firm, eventually wrenching the nails loose and the top board up. Inside, the crate was divided into honeycomb sections each padded with wool or synthetic material, with a glass vial in the centre.

Jaune took out the two plastic water bottles he'd scavenged from dustbins, drank from one and then emptied both onto the floor. Once he'd shaken them clean, he filled both up with dust – about three jars worth – before putting them back in the crate, laying the wood on top and closing the container door, locking it again. No one would notice until they cracked it open. The plastic bottles would also keep the dust from spilling and wouldn't shatter like glass.

"If I can find somewhere to sell this, I'll be good on money for a while."

The main doors clacked loudly, a white light flashing a warning as the giant metal warehouse front began to grind open.

/-/

"Fucking cold morning."

Robert McKenzie – Rob to his friends – shot his shift partner a glower. "Yeah, it is fucking cold. Thanks for the reminder. Which one of us worked the night shift again?"

"Alright. Alright. Least you'll be off soon, eh? Besides, you got to sit in that shed with a heater and a kettle. What's to complain?"

"Not having a bed for one." Rob sighed and rubbed his hands together, looking into the warehouse as the doors slid open. The various stacked containers loomed high above, light filtering in from the doors and washing over them. "I'll handle these if you work the next one over."

"You just want to get out the cold. Alright, that's fine with me. Have a good one, Rob."

"You too, Nigel."

Boots crunching over the concrete, Rob stepped through the door and let the metal shutter close behind him, casting the warehouse back into gloom. Approaching the metal stairway, he made his way up with one hand on the railing, clanking along to the mezzanine walkway down the length of the warehouse's west wall. The depot centre at the back, suspended above the forklifts, loomed in the distance, as cold and uninviting as anything in the early hours of the morning. He fished out the roll of keys once he reached it, heavy gloves making flicking through them a task and a half.

The first slid in but wouldn't turn. Cursing, he hunched up against the door and tried a second, turning it halfway and having to give the door a solid two hits with his shoulder before it went the whole way and clicked open.

"Place is going to the dogs," he muttered, walking in, and pulling his gloves off, tossing them into a corner. Things hadn't always been so tight. Back when the rails had first been laid, it'd been hailed as a golden age for the logistics industry. Jobs aplenty, they'd said. A bright future. Problem was, no one expected Atlas to commercialise their air freight technology so soon, especially when they usually wanted to keep the military edge.

Between sea and air, rail had taken a hit, and once the White Fang started ambushing routes? Well, that was the nail in the coffin. You couldn't ambush air freight. Not easily, anyway. Sea was a little more dangerous, what with the Grimm and all, but patrol boats from Atlas kept the waters safe. Not so for the Grimm-infested wilderness the rail had to go through.

"Not gonna last," Rob mumbled, logging into the terminal. "Maybe Samantha's right. I need to find another job." It hurt his pride to think of letting his wife's best friend's husband offer him a job on the docks, but pride wasn't helping any.

One more week, he kept telling her. We'll turn things around. Things will get better.

They never did. Sammy only ever smiled weakly when he said that now. "Fuck," he hissed, pressing his forehead to the screen. "I should have listened." The door swung open and shut behind him, clattering. Rob scowled and spun on his seat. "Nigel, I swear if you've-"

A gun.

It was the first thing he saw and for a horrifying second he thought it'd be the last.

"Don't move. Don't make a sound."

Rob froze in the seat. Despite being told to stay perfectly still, his hands rose slowly, palms outward in surrender. Cloying cold crept up his body, turning his blood to ice. He shivered, teeth chattering.

The man aimed the gun to the terminal. "Log in."

"It – It already is…" Rob's voice cracked. His eyes roamed higher and every bone in his body turned to jelly. Jaune Arc. Oh fucking hell, it was Jaune Arc. The killer. The madman. Rob always considered himself a tough no-nonsense man, but the second he recognised that cold visage, tears started to pool in his eyes.

He'd made mistakes. So many fucking mistakes. So many that could be fixed if he only had more time.

"I don't want to die."

"You won't." The man's voice was hoarse and tight, young like a boy's but that didn't matter much when he couldn't look away from the gun. "Do what I say, and you won't die. Do you understand me?"

Rob's head bobbed up and down like a yoyo. "Anything," he wheezed. "I'll do anything."

"I want you to bring up the details of all the containers stored here. I want you to find where the ones from Chivalric Arms are going."

Rob's heart clenched. "I can't. It doesn't work like that!" he rushed out, terrified of a bullet to the back of the head. He leaned aside from the terminal screen to let the killer see. "We see what comes in and who is planned to collect it, but we don't get details of where it goes. I-I can tell you where it is. I can tell you when they're meant to collect it!"

"Do that."

"Yes sir. Right on it!"

Rob's fingers flew over the keys, blind terror making him miss a few and have to go back. The fact it was taking longer had his heart racing and he had to hold his hands over the keys to forcefully calm them down. His fingers twitched and shook like wriggling worms. He forced them down again, swallowing and grinding through documents.

"Here." His voice rasped, raw and quiet. "T-They're stored in 2B. That's two down on the left. Keys are in my left pocket." He didn't dare move to take them out. "Says here they're coming to collect today. Two hours from now. I-If you kill me, they'll never come. It'll be a crime scene."

"If you do as I tell you, I won't kill you. The newspapers exaggerate. I'm not a murderer."

Rob wanted to laugh – he really did. Not a murderer? Really!? He had a bigger body count than Roman fucking Torchwick. It was hilarious to claim otherwise, and yet Rob couldn't manage more than a shaky nod and a whimpered acknowledgement. Anything to get him out alive and back to Sammy. New job, new life, turn things around. Live.

"I'm going to tie you up," the murder said. "I want you down on your knees. Take off your jacket and helmet."

Rob did so carefully and even removed the lanyard around his neck with the little laminated picture frame and details. "Y-You'll need this," he said, placing it down. "Need ID to n-not be questioned."

_I'm being useful. Please don't kill me._

Jaune Arc barely acknowledged it. He gestured with the gun and Rob got on his knees, holding his wrists together behind his back and turning to offer them to the killer. If he was going to die, there was fuck all he could do about it, but cooperating might save him. Maybe. It hadn't saved anyone else, but he could hope.

The doors clanked a second time. Rob's stomach dropped to his knees. Nigel hadn't come back, had he? Fuck, of all the times to be a good friend! The light warning workers inside went off and metal grated. A fist caught his collar and hauled him back, voice _hissing_ into his ear.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know," he whispered back. "It shouldn't be anyone!"

Jaune clutched his gun and Rob almost pissed himself, especially when it was aimed at his head. The trigger wasn't pulled, however. "You're going to go down there," the killer told him. "And tell whoever it is that everything is fine. You got it? Don't try and run. If you come back, I won't kill you. Run and I'll gun you down."

"O-Okay. I'll do it." His eyes didn't leave the gun. "I-I'll need you to let me go."

The killer released him, and Rob stumbled to his feet. When the gun motioned for him to do so, he hurried to the door, opening it and edging onto the metal walkway. He'd never been a fast man and it would take time to get down the stairs. Could he outrun a bullet? Probably not. It was said Jaune Arc had hunted down and killed two huntsmen in Mistral. He was just a regular guy. The only thing he could do was do whatever the monster said and hope he got out alive.

"H-Hey there!" he called, waving to the four people at the entrance. He made his way to the staircase in what he hoped was a slow and calm manner, descending with a hand gripping the railing so tight his fingers stuck to it. "Things are all fine in here," he called. "I-I'm not sure which delivery you're here for, but our first isn't scheduled for two hours from now. If you want the foreman, he's in the main building."

The four men – and they were all men – were dressed in high-vis jackets and jeans, but Rob didn't recognise any of them. Their faces were square and set, all firmly neutral and a little too regimented.

"Are you from haulage?" he asked. "Drivers?"

The second one from the left turned his head to the side and nodded in Rob's direction. The tallest of them, the one on the far left, nodded back and snapped his hands up. Rob barely had the time to process the gun in the man's hand.

/-/

_Crack!_

Jaune flinched, eyes scrunching shut as the man toppled back, blood spraying from his head, to collapse on the metal staircase. The silenced shot wasn't as quiet as the movies made it sound and echoed in the warehouse, but it sounded more like a crack of a car door being slammed than a gunshot. Opening his eyes, Jaune stared at the back wall of the small office, breathing in deeply and bringing Mors up to his chest. Metal clanged outside as someone scaled the walkway and came running along it, boots shaking the metal and causing it to rattle.

Chivalric Arms had found him, and this time he didn't have Adam or Blake to rely on.

Blake. The betrayal bit deep, even deeper still knowing he was here now because of her. Jaune's teeth gritted together and he gripped Mors tighter still, eyes flashing angrily. Blake had abandoned him and now Chivalric Arms thought they had him.

His finger slid over Mors' barrel, clicking the button in to slot an explosive round into place.

/-/

"Was that James?" Glynda asked as Ozpin ended the call. She stepped out of the golden elevator and into his office with a fresh stack of paperwork in hand. Ozpin made room for it on his desk with a faint smile and a move of his mug.

"It was. I just finished updating him on our latest findings."

"The information from the Belladonna girl." Glynda frowned. "I'm not normally one to question you, Ozpin, and I realise the information she shared is important – invaluable, in fact – but is it really wise to accept her into Beacon so suddenly?"

"I thought it best given the circumstances. While it was certainly awkward fitting her in on the very day of initiation, no one appears to have noticed she wasn't in the hall the night before. As for trusting her, Miss Belladonna believes her decision to be the just one, even if it's clear she holds some guilt."

"Guilt that might be used to sway her."

"I don't think so. Guilt is natural when you are turning on an ally, but I didn't sense any regret in her. She believes she has made the correct choice. The only choice." Ozpin sipped from his mug and set it down. "As reckless as my actions may seem, I thought it more important to have information on the real threat. She is, by comparison, a minor issue."

"Jaune Arc."

"Hmm. James was… understandably upset to hear of it. He will be coming early, along with a contingent of his forces, and I expect he will want to speak with Miss Belladonna at length. We'll have to make room for them here if we don't want everyday life in the city disturbed."

"I'll see rooms prepared."

"Thank you, Glynda. You're a lifesaver."

"What will we do about him?" she asked.

"Officially, he's a murderer and to be stopped by any means necessary."

"Officially," she argued. "The story from Miss Belladonna paints a different picture."

"Yes, and with the information we have from James to corroborate, I'm inclined to believe her side of the story. The problem is, and she all but confirmed this, Mr Arc will never accept that we might want to help him. If we try to negotiate with him, he's sure to react negatively."

"He's not the only one. I know you're fond or rehabilitation, but I can't imagine anyone being happy with him joining the student body. The Council would be in uproar. Parents would draw their children out by the bucketful. Atlas might even push for extradition. I don't think even you have the political clout to stop all that, Ozpin."

He chuckled. "You're right there. Of course, letting him die is no more attractive a solution. For one, his Semblance could be a useful weapon against her, but even more importantly, I do not believe he will `die` quite so easily. Not without taking many down with him."

"Does Miss Belladonna not have any solution?"

"None other than what we already decided - that we might draw his attention by rescuing a sibling on his behalf. Alas, Mountain Glenn turned out to be a dead end. The labs were Merlot's and there was no sign there of any inhabitation. Other than that, we know his range is limited to fifteen metres either side of him. That's a thirty-metre bubble within which no aura or Semblance will function."

"Including his own. A single sniper could bring him down if a huntsman engaged to force him to use his Semblance first."

"Assuming he could be drawn into an open ambush where we might position said sniper."

"We could use her as bait to lure him out."

"I'm not sure Miss Belladonna could be trusted with it. Or that she would trust us after," he added. "Imagine we succeed, and she discovers we used her to draw out and kill him without even trying to talk him down. We'd be rid of one problem only to create another."

"One far less dangerous."

"Admittedly." Ozpin sighed and removed his glasses. "I would still prefer to handle this peacefully. I've made many mistakes in my life, Glynda. The ones I regret most are where I choose the easy option – the safe option – and forever wonder if things couldn't have been different. Mr Arc is a man whose family, family of a huntsman I taught, have been captured or killed. He has become a human experiment. I do not want to put him down like a rabid dog and let those behind this escape into the shadows."

He could see Glynda was the same, lips pursing up. Between the reports before from James and the new knowledge from a terrified and desperate Blake Belladonna begging for asylum, they had a fuller picture of the boy's activities. Enough to know he might not be responsible for every death blamed on him.

That didn't make him any less dangerous, however. In fact, it made him more dangerous. The far better result would have been if Miss Belladonna could have convinced him to come with her, both coming to him and allowing him to help them.

"We will have to play it by ear," he said. "Wait and-" An alert on Ozpin's screen pinged up, buzzing angrily. Ozpin held up a hand for Glynda to wait and opened it, reading through the contents with widening eyes. He snapped it shut and stood. "There's been an explosion by the old cargo yard – the one where Miss Belladonna and Mr Arc entered the city."

Glynda spun on her heel. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Capture him alive if you can," Ozpin called as she entered the elevator. "But preserve your life first! Remember, his range is fifteen metres. Do not enter it no matter what!"

Glynda Goodwitch nodded as the doors slid shut before her.

/-/

The explosive round struck an SDC container and pierced through, igniting inside and causing the dust to expand and blow out the metal sides, pinging shards all around the warehouse like a grenade. The heat struck other containers and set those off, those with flammable materials bursting into flame and the dust exploding, the chain reaction ripping through the warehouse and sending the three men on the ground flying.

The final man on the catwalk clung to the railing as it shook, looking down on the carnage. His head, and his weapon, snapped back around when metal rattled to his right, but he wasn't fast enough. Jaune slammed into him and toppled them both over the edge, his hands on the man's shoulders.

They fell a good ten metres, Jaune kicking off the man's chest to send him down first. Colours sprang to life in his eyes and the heat from the fires burned hot against his skin, singing clothing. He kept his eyes open through it, narrowed and dry but fixed on the screaming man hurtling down. He struck the concrete with a horrific _crack_, neck snapping at an awkward angle.

Aura swept back in as Null retreated and Jaune landed mere seconds later, bouncing off the dead man's body and rolling to the side, scrambling to his feet with his heart in his throat. The fire had swept up the walls and was threatening to reach the ceiling, and as it touched new stacks, more dust erupted.

The assailants weren't killed by it, however. Charred and blackened with cuts and torn outfits, they stumbled out while maintaining their formation, one in the lead and two fanned out to the sides, quickly spreading to keep a wide distance between them. _They're keeping it so only two will ever be in Semblance range at a time. It's definitely Chivalric Arms. No one else would know to._

Hidden by the fire and smoke, Jaune dipped into the space between two large stacks, ignoring the heat washing over him and looping behind. There was no way this hadn't been noticed and the police would be on their way, but if he could question one of those men…

It was worth the risk.

The squad of trained professionals moved slowly around the corner of the burning containers, one dropping to a knee and aiming his gun down as the others covered the corners. The third moved to their fallen comrade and knelt to touch his neck. He didn't speak but raised a hand and motioned forward twice. It was enough to have the kneeling one stand and hurry ahead.

Smoke ballooned out as Jaune leapt from cover for the third – the one left behind. The very second his boots touched the ground they all turned, but by that point Null was flashing and he swept Mors' blade attachment across, whipping it over the man's throat. Arterial blood sprayed out over him and the man's chest. Null flicked off as he ducked behind the still alive man, using him as cover from the six gunshots that came mere fractions of a second after. They riddled the man, knocking him jerkily back into and over Jaune's body as he crumpled.

Mors spat back, two shots that missed, hastily aimed, and fired in the heat of combat. One pinged off the bottom of the room above and the other struck a metal post – closer, but still two feet from the man he'd been aiming for. The body he'd been using for cover dropped and Jaune dashed back into the smoke, aura tanking two more carefully placed shots, one off his arm and the other hitting his shoulder.

Through the fire, he saw the path ahead be blocked by the one who had run on, now cutting him off. Or so he thought. Jaune grinned ferally and charged straight at him, holding both hands over his face, feeling every bullet strike hard. Even if his aura blocked it, the force still threatened to knock him back. The pain was immense – like slamming your hand into a nail. Every shot was a needle strike of precision crashing into his aura and focused on a single point.

His rage eclipsed it. Thoughts of his sisters, his mom and even of Blake pushed him to and past the edge. Screaming, Jaune lunged for the startled soldier, dragging down under his weight. They collapsed and skidded across the floor; the man's gun was knocked from his hand, but a knife appeared just as quickly to block the downward stab from Mors. Trapped under him, the soldier was still trained enough to drive an elbow into Jaune's face and roll them over. Jaune's back hit the concrete and a hand gripped his forehead, driving it down as the man pressed the knife to his neck.

"Surrender Subject 000. You are-" A gunshot was muffled by clothing, armour padding beneath and then flesh and muscle. The man jerked above him, spitting blood across Jaune's face. The knife wavered as he looked down past shining golden and purple eyes to the barrel of Mors pushed up against his sternum.

"My name," Jaune hissed. "Is Null."

A second shot was enough to finish the man, the knife falling from his fingers as he slumped off and to the side. The armour he'd hidden under the driver's outfit wasn't enough at point blank range. Staggering up, Jaune cried out as a shot hit his chest and knocked him flat on his back again.

The last of the soldiers was walking slowly through the fire, gun held in two hands and aimed at him. When he tried to stand, the man fired and Jaune's wrist was ripped out from under him, toppling him back down.

"Delta Four-Nine to Command. Subject 000 is isolated. Team is dead. Requesting reinforcement and clean-up." The man came to a stop and Jaune's wildly fired shot hit his leg, making him grunt but not fall. "Understood, Command. Maintaining minimum distance."

Distance? Fifteen metres. Fuck! Jaune dropped Null and rolled to the side, crying out as fresh dust rounds impacted his back and shoulder. Fighting through it, he rolled behind the dead body and scrambled to his feet, rushing into the fire but tripping when two bullets impacted the back of his left shin in quick succession. The marksman had no trouble placing the shots Jaune couldn't. Rolling onto his back, aura already flagging, Jaune glared at the man who stood at the end of a flaming corridor. He stood stock still, gun aimed at him.

_I can't get close. Can't beat him at range. Damn it. This is what Adam and Blake were for._

Huntsmen he could deal with, but trained soldiers who knew their way around his Semblance were a bigger problem. Eyes tearing up from the heat, Jaune stared at the bastard as he came to stand beside a dark grey container. On it, two white letters before a shield formed the initials CA.

The container…

Gritting his teeth, Jaune reached down and pushed up onto one knee, already seeing the shot aimed at his leg. Pushing his aura forward, he gripped the bottle at his side and hurled it with all his strength. The shot hit, knocking his leg out from under him. The bottle arched through the sky, the soldier tracing it and moving aside quickly. It hit the spot he'd occupied, caught fire, and exploded with a loud `pop` and a sickening wrenching of metal torn asunder. The Agent flinched away from it but maintained his focus, moving forward to maintain the minimum distance without looking away.

Jaune looked up at him and smiled ferally. "Fuck you."

"_Intruder detected!"_ A white figure scorched black stepped mechanically out of the blazing container, its visor lighting up as it came face to face, or side, with the startled agent. An agent who was currently dressed as an armed and dangerous delivery driver, and not as a member of Chivalric Arms or law enforcement. The visor flashed red. _"Neutralising."_

"No-"

The first volley struck the man in the ribcage and sent him tumbling back into the fire. He yelled out angrily and shot back, striking the machine's visor and cracking it, causing the thing to tumble. It didn't matter as three more stepped out, walking over the fallen body of their brother and opening fire. The soldier darted out, moving quickly to pull a grenade out his pocket, bringing it up to his lips to bite out the pin.

Blood washed over it as a fresh volley hit and tore through his body, splattering out his back and into the fire. The soldier trembled, standing upright with wide eyes and the grenade pin between his teeth. His eyes slid to Jaune, who had crawled the final few metres closer and whose eyes were misty gold, red and purple.

"N-Null," he whispered, toppling.

The grenade fall loose and tinkled down, exploding with a loud crack. Jaune's aura came back in time to tank the shrapnel but the robots weren't as fortunate and were knocked back. The container collapsed, burying the others inside. It came down with a crash, the entire stack of containers giving way over them.

"Guh." Legs shaking, Jaune pushed himself up one last time, shying away from the flames licking away all around him. Limping to the body he knelt at its side and reached for the earpiece. "Delta Four-Nine to Command," he reported. "Command?"

Tinny static was the only response. The connection had been cut.

"Shit." Tossing it aside, he searched the man instead, pulling open his jacket and ignoring the grisly wounds, fumbling around for a wallet, ID, or anything he could use. There was a black leather wallet with some lien and cards in it. The ID was clearly fake, the rest probably no better. Taking the lien, he tossed the wallet aside and stood. "T-Time to go. Agh." His right leg nearly gave way. His aura, what he could feel of it, was low. Dangerously low. "Fuck."

Metal groaned overhead. The building wasn't going to last much longer, metal beams damaged by the explosions and the fire not making it any better. _So much for doing this quiet. Chivalric Arms must have known I'd be here. Or maybe they had access to the security system. It couldn't have been that guy accessing their files on the computer. They arrived within minutes._

Maybe they'd always been here, masquerading among the staff and waiting for him to return or guarding their interests. It hardly mattered now. Limping out the ring of burning containers, Jaune leaned against the wall by the only man who'd died and didn't deserve to. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking away. "I tried to let you live. If you want to blame anyone, blame them. Blame Atlas."

He doubted the man would find any peace in that. It was still his fault the guy died.

"I didn't mean to…"

There was no answer of course. Jaune wasn't sure what bothered him more – the fact the man died, or the fact he felt so little about it. Where was the guilt? The vomit? Why didn't he feel sick at all after all this? His breath was coming quick, but more from exhaustion than the nightmarish regret he was supposed to be feeling.

"Later," he told himself, limping on with one hand on the wall. "Escape first. Deal later." Reaching the doors, he wrenched it open and stepped outside, immediately covering his face with one hand as a bright spotlight shone down and blinded him.

"Jaune Arc!" an imperious female voice called out from above. The engine of a Bullhead reached his ears, the sound having been hidden over the crackling fire. Through his fingers, he looked up at the aircraft hovering a good twenty-five metres up, and the blonde woman hanging out the open door. "You are under arrest by the authority of Beacon."

Now this? After everything else, of all things, he now had _this_ to deal with? Jaune laughed.

He laughed loudly.

"Beacon, huh? I can't catch a break…"

"Lay down your weapon and surrender or I shall be forced to bring you down."

More people getting in his way – and these ones weren't Atlas _or_ Chivalric Arms. It was a fucking school for huntsmen, literally the _last people_ who should be on his ass. _I've done nothing to Beacon. I couldn't care less about it. _But if they wanted to make an enemy of him? If they wanted to get in his way – stop him finding his family? They'd have to be dealt with.

His finger thumbed along Mors' side, clicking his second explosive round into place.

"Jaune Arc! Place your weapon on the ground and lay on your chest with your hands atop your head. You will _not_ be warned again. Surrender now."

Jaune's eyes met those of the woman above, burning gold.

"No."

* * *

**Okay, I'll do this sneaky peaceful infiltration, and **_**nothing**_** will go wrong! I got this. I can do this. Two hours later, okay, so I destroyed half the city and killed ten thousand people. It's okay. I can fix this!**

"**News today that Vale has been entirely eradicated…"**

**Cinder turned away from the TV screen to Mercury and Emerald. "Well. That happened…"**

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**Next Chapter: 15****th**** June**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	19. Chapter 19

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because ****_obviously_**** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

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**Note:** Yes, I'm aware Jaune's eyes are blue. I was surprised at the idea of "gold eyes" confusing some people last chapter when he's been pulling them out from chapter one. I'm told it might be that I may have made it seem like gold was the "only" colour when I really just meant it as the first. It was a way to write one colour instead of several. When using Null his eyes go through a spectrum of colour, the first of which is usually gold. It's a visual cue to provide some small warning for the sake of his opponents.

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**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 19**

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Glynda saw the flash of colour and remembered the Belladonna girl's warning. "Take us higher!" she told the pilot, trusting they were already out of range but unwilling to take the risk. The Bullhead swerved upward at the same time the gun did. Glynda's Semblance came to the fore, aura pouring into a purplish shield – the same she'd used to protect Miss Rose from Torchwick's dust round.

The round impacted it and exploded, again something she'd known about thanks to Miss Belladonna's insight. _He has limited ammunition for that,_ she thought as the flames washed over her shield, licking at the Bullhead's hull. With the main force of the explosive charge spent, the fire did little but stain the metal black. _Better he use those on me than on civilians._

Even though her Semblance blocked the blast itself, the force couldn't be dissipated and pushed the aircraft to the side. Beacon's pilots were no amateurs, however. Wrestling the aircraft under control, they avoided the industrial cranes and came back to a low hover as the smoke and fire cleared.

Predictably, Jaune Arc had run.

"Nothing on visual, ma'am," the co-pilot called out. "Cameras are scanning clear."

"He must have ducked back into the warehouse then," she replied. "Give us some height and circle the building. He can't stay in there with it on fire."

"Yes ma'am."

The Bullhead pulled up and to the side, engines firing quick bursts to bring them off-centre to the burning building, circling around the blackened pillar of smoke without getting close enough for their vision to be obscured. The easiest route out for him would be to slip through the adjoining warehouses. The other route, into the main yard, would put him out in the open in full view of their cameras.

"You can't stay in there," she whispered to herself. "Don't be an idiot."

It was no surprise to her he chose not to give in, not with the way she'd phrased it. Less an invitation and more a command, but what was she supposed to do? The Council had decreed he be arrested. Atlas wanted him dead or alive. If she publicly made offers that went against those, Ozpin would be investigated and just as likely forced out of his position. Like it or not, the boy was a wanted killer. Whether those charges were true or not didn't change the fact he had to be _arrested_ before he could be proven innocent in a court of law.

If Beacon couldn't prove themselves strong enough to detain and hold him, Atlas might send teams to remove the threat before a court case could take place. There was always the possibility for a posthumous pardon, but that wouldn't satisfy anyone.

"Are the rubber bullets installed?" she called to the pilot.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, voice fed from his headset into a speaker set in the carrier compartment. "We always keep one loaded with rubbers. I checked it before we embarked." The less said about _why_ Beacon needed one with non-lethal ammunition the better. They weren't only sent out to hunt Grimm. "Open fire on sight?"

"Wait until I launch something at him. He'll be tempted to use his Semblance to make me drop it." The pilots knew about his Semblance, having been drilled on the importance of it, and the importance of the fifteen-metre rule, on the way here. "Even if he can't cancel my own, he can presumably cancel it once it enters his range. When the object I'm lifting drops, that's your cue. His aura will have dropped as well."

"Movement!" the co-pilot yelled. "Below and west – between the red and green building."

"Intercept!" Glynda barked, struggling to pick out what the co-pilot had seen through the smoke. "Head him off if you can, we don't want him breaking out onto the main roads."

"Ma'am!"

The Bullhead swerved left, cutting partially through the smoke and out onto the other side. Glynda held an arm over her eyes and squinted, other hand gripping the railing. She spotted the coloured buildings first, more warehouses, and only just made out the shape running between them, cutting away from the burning building and toward the mesh wire fence.

They were faster. Soaring overhead and dipping down, still maintaining distance, the pilot brought them to a low hover on the other side of the fence. The guns whirred threateningly but didn't fire, not when the chain links would certainly block most of it. The warning was enough. Arc would need to stop and climb the thing to get out, and he'd be an easy target. Even if he had aura, the impact of so many rubber rounds would knock him back onto the other side. He skidded to a stop, one hand on the concrete floor, kicked back and ran the other way.

"Keep him in the compound!" she ordered. "What of the civilians?"

"All evacuated ma'am," the co-pilot responded. He was on call to the local police. "The fire department is requesting entry, however…"

"Denied! Obviously. Are they stupid?"

"Bureaucrats, ma'am. Target has turned right at intersection. Lost sight." The Bullhead rose again, taking a vertical angle so they could see back down into the routes between the warehouses. Glynda scanned as best she could, but again it was the co-pilot and his magnified cameras catching sight of their quarry. "Acquired. Breaking from red building – moving toward containers in central area. By the crane."

"Take us over but be careful. Stay away from that crane. I don't like the look of it."

They drew toward and around the back of it, skirting what could become a serious obstacle if not avoided. Below, multicoloured containers dotted the concrete like brightly coloured fish in a grey pond. Picking out the single figure moving among them was next to impossible, especially when the crates weren't stacked perfectly. Some overhung or were placed atop two others, creating blind spots for him to hide in.

"Jaune Arc!" Glynda called out. "Surrender yourself to Beacon. You _will_ receive a fair trial and representation. If you're as innocent as you claim to be, come out and place your weapon on the floor." No response. No shots, either. Glynda narrowed her eyes. "Tell me there isn't a sewer system down there."

"There is, but no entry points. He'd need to blow through several metres of concrete."

"Got him! No – He's gone." The co-pilot cursed swiftly. "He's still in there, ma'am. Ground level. Are we high enough if he climbs?"

"Altitude of fifty metres. We're more than fine. Ma'am," the pilot called. "What about sending teams in while we hold?"

"No." The thought horrified her, though she realised he'd probably meant huntsman teams, not students. Even so, she wouldn't feel safe going in there herself, and that was a big problem when she was an experienced huntress and he was a teenager who hadn't even been to a prep school. "It's a maze down there, and with his Semblance it's whoever shoots first wins."

It would be even worse with students. An absolute massacre not worth thinking about. Biting her lip and cursing how useless hovering up here felt, she watched the crates below as the Bullhead lazily circled. In truth, they didn't have any great plan for this. The traditional way to handle this was as the pilot said. The air support kept visual and harried the opponent long enough for ground forces to move in and subdue. They didn't have ground forces. Not even Qrow fancied his odds – and there was no way she was sending people into that maze of containers.

Their best and possibly only bet was to bring him down by force.

"He's breaking cover!"

The Bullhead made to swerve but had to pull back with the crane in the way. He'd chosen his moment well, waiting for the circling Bullhead to move around the crane, which they had to avoid at a wide angle lest he try and topple it with explosives, to break cover and run the other way. The cameras continued to track him, but they couldn't open fire. Glynda clung to the railing as they ducked and went under the crane's arm, rising up again on the other side and soaring after him.

He was halfway across open ground when Glynda engaged her Semblance and tore up a chunk of rock, hurling it close to him. The debris exploded close but not too close. It shattered and showered him with bits of stone, knocking him to the side a little.

"You missed, ma'am."

"I hit as I intended to," she rebuked. "I'm not in the habit of crushing people. We have no idea what his aura reserves are like." Louder, to Arc, she yelled, "Surrender! You will be taken to Beacon for trial. Don't make this harder on yourself."

Three bullets pinged off the Bullhead. Three out of eight or nine fired. In response, she used her Semblance to bring up another large piece of rock and send it rushing in at his side, again not close enough to hit, but to clip and knock him down. She saw his head swivel in its direction, and though she was too far away to see his eyes, the rock dropped suddenly, cracking onto the floor.

"Now!"

Guns whirred and spat. Pellets pinged wildly off the concrete behind him and the co-pilot adjusted his aim, bringing the trail up until it struck the back of his legs. He fell hard, toppling and rolling with a cry that could be heard even from so high up.

"Direct hit!"

"Cease fire," she called. "We could still kill him if we're not careful. Bring us low. Stay out of range – at least twenty metres – but I want us low enough that I can tag him if he tried to stand. If he stands, fire a burst at his legs."

"Yes ma'am."

Another bullet pinged off the Bullhead ineffectively. A second hit lower and a third even lower, skimming _underneath_ entirely. He was on his back, gun held in both hands as he steadied his aim. Another shot skimmed by beneath them. _Odd. His aim should be getting better, not worse. We're hovering still and- wait…_

Even from such a distance she saw his manic grin. He fired again but the discharge was louder. A single round whistled beneath the Bullhead, missing by a good three feet. Or maybe that was right on target. Glynda hung out and looked back, eyes widening as she saw the round hit the stacked crates he'd come from and exploding in a ball of fire.

With the dust shortages caused by Torchwick's failed crime wave, there was a lot of dust coming into the city. Too much. The explosion tore through the first container and crumpled its walls, causing those above to topple down, disgorging their contents into the flames.

At least one of those was crates and crates of SDC dust.

"Get us airborne!" Glynda cried a fraction of a second before the dust ignited.

The force of the explosion set off more, sending out a shockwave that knocked the Bullhead forward. The pilot had already pulled back however, meaning that even as they came closer to him on one axis, they pulled up and away, escaping the reach of his Semblance. The aircraft span and shook, and if it weren't for the metal belt securing her to the interior, she'd have been thrown out entirely. As it was, she clung on for dear life, hair flapping free of its bun as the scenery outside whooshed by, buildings, crates, buildings. The Bullhead continued to three-sixty as the pilot wrestled for control. The continuous boom of fresh explosions behind them didn't help.

A tortured _snap_ and a _groan_ had her staring up. Shadow covered them and Glynda swore, stabbing her hands upwards.

Glynda dropped to her knees and screamed. "Ahhhhh!"

"Ma'am!?" The pilot looked back and saw what she was stopping. The huge industrial crane was suspended not twenty metres above them, mid-fall now that its base had been torn asunder by the dust explosions. Tonnes of steel inches down bit by bit, already speeding up in its descent as the huntress' Semblance tried and failed to stop it.

Glynda had bought them seconds, but those seconds cost her. With a gurgle, the huntress snapped back, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Aura, willpower or just her body itself gave way under the strain.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

The pilot wrenched the stick sideways and the aircraft tipped, more _falling_ out the way than flying. Twisted metal on fire in places crashed down, missing by ten feet – mere inches when dealing with aviation. The force of the crane touching down shattered concrete and kicked up dust, buffeting the already out of control Bullhead and _slamming_ it down.

The chassis grated and screeched as it hit, snapping off the landing pads and the under-turret as well, showering spars every which way as they skidded along with a sound not unlike nails on a chalkboard. Alarms blared within as red lights flashed to tell him he was exactly 0 metres above ground level.

"I fucking know!" he screamed, bucking in the seat.

The Bullhead came to a stop and he looked over the unconscious body of his co-pilot, seeing the wrecked industrial crane laid on its side no more than thirty metres away.

"That was close. Ma'am? Goodwitch?" Leaning back, wincing as his harness dug into him, he spotted the woman tossed onto her side and curled up at the back of the Bullhead, unmoving. "Fuck. Beacon, this is Alpha-One requesting emergency pick up. Two-" He winced as his chest pulled. Something wet dribbled down his stomach. "T-Three wounded."

"_Beacon receives, Alpha-One. Medical assistance is en route. ETA three minutes. Requesting update on target. Is it safe to land?"_

Target? Oh, the kid. Groaning, the pilot looked up and out the cracked window. To absolutely no one's surprise, the brat was long gone. "Target escaped. Landing zone clear." And on fire, he noticed. With the dust containers adding to the warehouse, the entire compound was a mess. "M-Might want to send the fire crews in."

"_Understood. Rest east, Alpha-One."_

"Not like I can do much else…" The pilot heaved a sigh and sat back, lacking the strength to get himself out his harness and unsure what it might do to aggravate his injuries. "So much for an easy mission. Fuck…"

/-/

Jaune uncapped the dust and poured it into an emptied round, slipping it into the special barrel designed to hold his three explosive rounds. Without those, he'd have been toast. He'd have to remember to thank Adam for it. Mors clicked as the chamber closed, the sound making the man in the driver's seat next to him whimper.

"I'm not going to-" His chest tugged and Jaune grunted. He was too tired for this. "Just keep driving and you'll be fine. Stop and I'll test these on you."

"Y-Yes sir."

There really was no point convincing his hostage he wasn't going to kill him. For one, no one believed him, but even if they did it would have only given the guy the confidence to refuse. He was only this compliant because he thought his life in danger.

As such, he kept Mors in his lap, leaning back in the cabin of the lorry he'd hitched a ride in. There'd been more than enough of them parked outside, each waiting to bring their supplies into the compound. Most of them had been too distracted by the fires and chattering on what it might mean to notice him slip into the cabin of one and point a gun at its driver.

_I wonder if those people survived that crash._ It no longer bothered him how little he cared. _They shouldn't have gotten in the way. I've no problem with Beacon. They knew about my Semblance, though. Did Blake rat me out to the authorities?_

Maybe she'd gone to Beacon. If so, he had reason to hate them, but still not to hunt them down. Vengeance was nice and all, but if he could get his family out and escape to Menagerie, that was enough. If nothing else, those people would think twice about bothering him again. Shaking his head, he helped himself to a bottle of soda the driver had in his centre console, then hooked his stolen scroll into the charging port there, pulling the driver's off it. Without anywhere safe to bunk, scroll charge was valuable.

"What's your password?" he asked.

"1-2-3-4."

"Cute." Jaune thumbed it in and it opened quickly. He thumbed through to the local news.

"W-Where am I taking you?" the driver asked anxiously. "Sir?"

The place he'd been bunking was close by, but was it safe to stay near to the place he'd just wrecked? Probably not. He'd also have to contend with whether sparing this man would just lead the police to him. Like the last, this person would instantly rat on him the second he was safe. Unless he couldn't, of course. Food for thought.

"The docks are on the other side of the city, right?" He waited for the nervous nod. "Drop me off outside there."

He had no interest in the docks of course, but it might make sense to the police and make it look like he was after dust or something. It'd be good to throw a red herring, and he could then sneak back into the city and find somewhere to stay. The lorry pulled up onto one of Vale's many highways, joining a lane and trundling along. Cars drove by on both sides of the metal barriers in the centre, lights shining. No one had the time to look into the cabin of a moving lorry and he allowed himself to relax at last, sighing.

He'd confirmed Chivalric Arms were active in Vale. That was something, at least. It meant they had to have a base nearby, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to move so quickly. Could it be in the city? The size and scale of the previous bases made that sound unlikely, and yet what did he know? It could be a smaller one fronting as a legitimate business.

_That's the problem. I know next to nothing about Vale. _Adam had done everything before. He'd found the facilities, planned the attack, and pieced together where the next were. All Jaune had done was tag along and lend his Semblance to the matter. _I need to think like Adam. What would he do here?_

They'd found the Mistral base because of a captive they interrogated. Not the soldier; like the ones here, they'd been prepared to fight to the death. It'd been a scientist and a Bullhead pilot. People who weren't quite as well trained on resisting it. _I need to capture someone who knows something and get the information out of them. For that, I'll need to find targets. It's the same problem all over again. I don't know enough about Vale._

The White Fang might, but how was he supposed to reach the White Fang branch here? It would be so easy if he could just call Adam, but it wasn't like he had his number. When had he ever needed it? They'd been together from the get-go and if he needed to reach Adam, he had him saved into his contacts on the scroll Adam bought him. The one _Blake_ stole. If only he'd thought to memorise it, but why would he have when there were bigger fish to fry?

_I either need to do something to get the White Fang's attention or I need to find someone who knows Vale better and who would be willing to help me._

Easier said than done. Who was going to help a wanted criminal like him?

Other than _another_ criminal. Jaune leaned forward suddenly, pushing through the driver's scroll to flick across news articles. It made sense, didn't it? He'd already worked with the White Fang, so why not someone else. Finding a crook wouldn't be easy - they survived by being hard to find – but there was one surefire, if dangerous, way to do it. Jaune clicked on an article link.

"Change of plans," he told the driver. "Take me here…"

/-/

The lorry slowly pulled into the layby. Its lights turned off as the engine died. The driver kept both hands on the wheel, eyes haunted and body unnaturally still. End of the road, and in more ways than one.

Jaune closed the scroll and pocketed it. "I'm taking this." He paused and eyed the driver. "Take your coat off. I want that as well."

The man hurried to comply. It was a long navy-blue coat with a hood. Waterproof by the looks of it, but more important because he could use it to hide his face. Jaune pulled it on, pleased to find that while it was a little short for him, it still fit as close as he needed it to. He patted the pockets and found the man's wallet. After a second's thought, he kept hold of it. All the timewasting didn't fully take away from the severity of the situation.

The first person he'd spared started a manhunt. The second died to Chivalric Arms.

Was he really going to make the same mistake a third time? His finger stroked the trigger of Mors, hand itching to bring it up and fire. It would be quick. Over in a second and no worse a death than the one Chivalric Arms imparted on that worker. It might be pinned on him now that they knew he was here, but it'd take a day or two. If nothing else, it would distract the police.

_I may as well kill him. It wouldn't be my first. Not sure how many it's been now._

The upsetting part was that he didn't feel any reluctance to. And it was only upsetting because he felt he should. Sanctity of life and all that, or just the fact that the average person didn't kill and no matter what Atlas claimed, he was still just a normal person. Innocent. Framed. He chuckled quietly. Who was he kidding? There was nothing _normal_ about him anymore.

"I have a family," the driver whispered.

"Last person I spared had a family too," Jaune muttered. "Didn't stop him ratting me out. I have a family. Or had. That got destroyed by Atlas and now I'm the monster." He shook his head, unsure why he was even talking to a random person about this. Did he want to get it off his chest? Not really. _I'm just talking to buy time, aren't I? Hoping I'll come up with a reason not to pull the trigger._

"Sorry," Jaune said, bringing the gun up to the man's face. "No hard feelings."

He wept; he sobbed; he whispered a goodbye to someone he didn't recognise – and through it all, Jaune wondered why none of it moved him. Not the tears or the fear or the thought of depriving another family of someone important.

There was nothing. He felt… not empty, but impatient. Disinterested. Blank.

In the end it was nothing more than the thought he theoretically should spare the man's life that brought the gun down. He didn't feel a better person for it, about it and he didn't feel pleased with the decision. Maybe someone would. Maybe that someone would be his mom. "Consider yourself lucky," he said, climbing out the cabin. The man had collapsed over the steering wheel to sob like a broken child. "No one cared when we cried."

Dad hadn't cried. Everyone else had and begged and pled and held onto one another and screamed. He could still remember mom screaming as she was pulled away, separated, each of them shuttled off to different testing sites. No one gave a shit then, so he wasn't sure why he felt he ought to here. His thumb hovered over the slide, half ready to insert an explosive round and fire backwards. In the end he didn't, but not for what felt like the right reasons.

The explosive rounds were too valuable to waste on one man.

Pulling his new hood up, Jaune stepped out and away from the truck. At least with the man's scroll stolen, he wouldn't be able to report this quickly. Trudging along, he read through the article again. It was dated only three days ago. Too recent for anything to have changed, especially with the city in uproar over his appearance. The police were too busy and would right now be scouring Vale for him or attending the fire at the train yard.

This was the last place they'd think to look for him.

"Hello," the uniformed man behind the desk said, not looking up from his terminal. He had a Styrofoam cup of coffee on his desk, but it had clearly gone cold. He looked tired. With everything going on in the city, Jaune could imagine why. "Sorry. I'll be with you in a second, I promise." He tapped a few last things in, sighed and looked up. "Welcome to the VPD Central Station. How may I help y-" The man's eyes widened. "-Y-You…?"

Mors clicked once as it was levelled over the desk at the officer's face.

"I'd like to speak with a prisoner."

"I-If you shoot, the alarm will go off. The whole building will come down on you…"

"Will that save you?" Jaune asked. The man swallowed. "I've had a bad day, sir. I don't want to kill you, but right now, as tired as I am, I can't figure out _why_ I don't want to. There's a big part of me that thinks the only reason I don't want to is because I _think I shouldn't_ want to." Jaune stared the man in the eye. He wasn't lying. "I need to speak with a prisoner you have, and I may also be walking out of here with him."

"I can press the alarm."

"I can pull the trigger."

"You wouldn't be able to stop me in time."

"What's your point?"

The officer's eyes crossed over the barrel. "The alarm would go off."

"And…?"

"E-Everyone would come…"

"They would." Jaune didn't look worried in the slightest. "In which case I'll be forced to kill them and blow a hole in the cell walls to find the guy I'm looking for. That'll mean even more people escaping. And you'd be the first to die, obviously." He pulled back on the trigger slightly, just enough to make it click. "I'll let you decide which way we're doing this."

"Y-You're insane. A psychopath…"

"I'm not…" Jaune sighed. "You might be right actually. But I'm the psychopath with a gun to your head. I've already seen five people die today. What's a sixth?"

/-/

The electronic lock keyed open and the cell's bars rattled open. The sole occupant looked up, smirking past the bruises that dotted his face. "A little early for dinner, isn't it? Did you miss me that much already-?"

An officer was shoved into the cell. He fell, hands cuffed behind his back and tape strapped over his mouth. His eyes were closed but he was clearly alive and conscious, just _wishing_ he didn't have to be where he was.

"Well. This is new…"

"Are you Roman Torchwick?" The man who asked was more of a boy, and yet Roman wouldn't have liked to run into him in a dark alley. Everything about him screamed gullible idiot. From the hair to the clothes to his age.

All of it except the eyes, which looked down on him with an incredible lack of emotion. Roman recognised them. They were the eyes of someone who had run out of shits to give. Someone who was fast running out of reasons not to kill the next person that annoyed them. Trapped in a cell with said man, Roman swallowed.

"I am."

"You're some kind of bigshot around here, aren't you?"

Not from Vale, that much was obvious. Oh shit. He recognised that face. Who wouldn't nowadays? Jaune Arc. Wanted killer. Big reward on his head, but the kind of reward that told Roman all he needed to know about the intelligence in going after it. You didn't get a bounty that large without being able to back it up.

His wisecracks failed him. To be fair, he didn't think he looked the part, scuffed and burnt and bruised, and he doubted this man wanted to hear them either. "Something of one," he said honestly. "I've got connections and resources if that's what you mean."

"It is." He stepped forward with a key in hand but didn't slip it into the lock. "You're going to help me with what I need to do."

"And in return you free me?"

"No." The dead eyes swirled with colour before sliding back to blue. They didn't look any less worrying. "And in return, I don't kill you."

"W-Well." Roman laughed weakly, all too aware the kid wasn't lying. "Ain't that a deal for the ages? What else can I say? I'm yours. Help me and I'll help you with whatever it is you need. Just watch out. It was a broad from Beacon with a tricky Semblance that put me away. She might come after you as well."

"Beacon?" His eyes narrowed. "You mean the blonde teacher?"

"Yeah. Goodwitch. Scary huntress with her-"

"I already dealt with her. Not sure if she's alive or not, but I brought her Bullhead down with her in it."

The locks clicked and Roman's wrists came free. He rubbed them but didn't stand, not wanting to move too quickly and startle his new friend. Dealt with Goodwitch already, had he? Well, that was only slightly terrifying. He'd been counting on Fall to help him out there, but the flaky bitch had been off in Mistral trying to rustle up some animals. She'd called to say she'd be a week late, but he hadn't thought it would cause such problems. Captured by a fifteen-year-old and a teacher, only to be saved by someone two years older. He wasn't going to live this one down easily.

"Do you have a place we can stay?"

"I do. Got a few safehouses." He nodded to the officer on the floor, indicating they couldn't talk about it here. Apparently, he hadn't indicated hard enough because Jaune cocked his gun and aimed it down. "Whoah! Whoah! I meant we'll talk about it outside!" Swallowing, he urged the kid out the cell. "Killing cops is a bad idea. Gets you hunted down."

"I'm already being hunted."

"Yeah, well, I'm not." Though that might change with this. Crap in a handbasket. "Look, you want my help and I'll give it. Let's get you somewhere safe so we can both catch a bath, meal and a nap, alright?" He was relieved to see the man nod and lower the weapon. "Maybe we'll both be a little more human in the morning."

Maybe. Going by the look on the kid's face, he wasn't sure how much human was left.

* * *

**Obviously, we saw Cinder in Mistral before the train, and since the Ruby – Roman incident presumably happened before Beacon by a few days, it's already happened here. The idea is that since Adam and Co were wandering around Mistral a little longer for the sake of Jaune, their recruitment by Cinder got delayed. I assume that in canon Adam only accepted her offer once he got dumped and basically transformed into a deranged lunatic over the fact. **

**Small knock on effects, but it meant Cinder wasn't there to stop Glynda smacking Roman's Bullhead down and arresting him.**

**Part of Jaune's rapid transformation this chapter is how exhausted he is. He's not literally a stone cold killer right now, as you'll see next chapter, but he's inching toward it bit by bit, and when he's in full on panic mode like this, exhausted, spent and too tired to give a damn? It shows.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: **22nd June

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	20. Chapter 20

**Ignore the troll**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 20**

* * *

Roman kept a wide berth from the psychopath asleep on his sofa. His safehouses were pretty much always fit for one person at most, not that the kid had minded. The moment he'd been in and safe, he collapsed on the seat and was snoring. He didn't even care that Roman was still up and potentially a threat.

As if Roman dared to try anything.

He'd seen the news – always valuable to keep your ear out for it, and your name out _of_ it – and he'd seen what happened to those who underestimated Jaune Arc. _This isn't some random kid I have on my sofa. He's a stone-cold killer._

Or close enough. There'd been some degree of exhaustion the night before where he'd been about to kill a helpless police officer. That didn't do much to exonerate him but Roman was prepared to write it off as the kid being at his wits end. The others? Not so much. Wherever this kid went, people died. Roman was determined to not be added to that list. Sadly, he had all too much experience with that, especially recently.

First stage of that was being useful. Roman headed to his kitchen and checked the fridge, wincing at how off some of the produce was. There was a frozen loaf in the freezer however, and he tossed some slices in the toaster while cracking open a can of baked beans, pouring them into a glass jug and putting that in the microwave. Cooking had never been his thing. Proper cooking, that was. If it was hot, filling and could be heated in under three minutes, he was in.

The smell of beans on toast didn't wake the kid up, but the sound of the morning news playing off the miniature TV in the kitchenette did. The content of it wasn't so important since they _were_ the news. The only thing Roman hummed at was confirmation his `saviour` really had taken out Goodwitch and hospitalised her.

_Unhinged, dangerous and with the power to back it up._ Roman grimaced and downed a coffee. _Just my sodding luck. This is that Cinder chick all over again._

The creak of the sofa flexing under the man's weight warned Roman he was getting up. There was confusion on the kid's face – and that was problematic. Roman drew attention to himself before his guest could become surprised and kill him by accident. "Breakfast is ready if you want some." He watched the kid jump and spin to face him. Roman was far away and very unarmed. "Only beans on toast. Not had much of a chance to stock this place up, so the eggs and milk are all gone. I can do juice or a coffee, but only black."

Jaune stared at him for a long few seconds, no doubt recalling the events of the day before. Roman let him. Rushing someone deadly enough to go toe to toe with Glynda Goodwitch wasn't the right way to start a morning.

"I can get some bacon delivered later," he said. Talking was good. Talking was familiar. "Some of my men do the supply runs around here. No risk of us being found. The landlord owes me favours – too many to think about going to the authorities. This is about as safe as it gets for people like us."

People like him, anyway.

"Where-?" Jaune trailed off, listening in on the news as it spoke of Roman's breakout at the hands of the very boy before him. It was that which clued the kid in. "Right. I broke you out. I remember. My head is… I wasn't thinking too straight. I was just so _tired_ of being chased around. So… done with it all."

Short fuse, then. Roman made a note of it. The kid didn't look quite as murder-happy now, but that could obviously change if he got in a bad mood again. It was normal to get so angry you wanted to hurt someone – just not normal to be so willing to act on it. If he didn't push the kid to that, and as long as he remained useful when someone else did, his life should be assured.

"You helped me out, kid." Roman came over with the second plate and a plastic tub of juice. He put them both on the coffee table and watched the boy wolf it down like five-star cuisine. Bean juice flew everywhere. Clearly, he hadn't eaten. He looked like he'd been sleeping rough too. The clothing didn't make any sense as far as fashion went and was almost certainly stolen. "That means I'll help you. That's the deal we made, yeah?"

I'm useful, he was saying. You need me. Don't kill me.

"Mmh. Yeah. Hm." He swallowed and took the whole carton, tipping it back and drinking greedily. "Ah!" He wiped his mouth clean. "That's why I helped you. I need someone who knows Vale. You were just the first I saw on the news."

Yikes. Blow to the ego aside, Roman counted his lucky stars. While it was safer being in prison than attached to a wanted killer, he had a feeling Cinder wouldn't have been so forgiving of him falling behind on dust shipments. That could be a problem too, if Jaune thought he was welching on him to play courier for someone else.

"I do have some work of my own I need to do, but-" he stressed the `but` before the kid could get upset and start shooting. "I'm _more than willing_ to repay you for breaking me out – and there's no saying our interests can't coincide. Tell me, though. What is it you're after? I can't much help if I don't know what I'm helping with."

"It's my-"

He cut off suddenly, clamming up faster than one of Junior's goons in a police station. His eyes narrowed on Roman. Smart kid. Smarter than he'd given him credit for. Revealing your weaknesses too early was dangerous in this line of work. _He's new, but he's learning – and fast. _Roman kept a perfectly neutral expression, not giving away anything.

"Chivalric Arms has hold of some things that are important to me. I need help finding them, breaking into their facilities, and getting them back."

"Chivalric Arms. The weapons manufacturer?" He received a careful nod. "Hm. Dangerous work, but you know what, I might just be able to help you there." An arms company would have a metric shit tonne of dust, and right now he was behind schedule. Perilously so. "I take it we're talking hidden facilities. Otherwise you'd have walked up to the front door. To be fair, their offices here are tiny. It's a subsidiary. I doubt they have anything there but paperwork."

Jaune looked up. "Would that reveal where their hidden ones are?"

"I doubt it. You don't put a front company up and then leave a literal paper trail there for illegal enterprises." Seriously, the kid was good at the murder but just about useless otherwise. "You sure they _have_ facilities in Vale?"

"Yes. We tracked them here-"

"We?" Roman interrupted.

"The White Fang. I was with them before I was…" His lips peeled back. Roman recoiled from the vicious snarl that was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. "Before we got split up," he said, which was _definitely_ not what he'd been thinking.

"You got problems with them?" Roman asked carefully.

"No. Not with the White Fang. I've been trying to find them actually."

"Lucky. I'm stepping into talks with them myself – or I was before Goodwitch and some brat in red knocked my Bullhead out the sky. Should be able to put you in touch." And it was fortunate there wasn't bad blood there, or Roman would be up a creek without a paddle. "Alright. What other evidence do you have?"

"The train I came in on. There were carriages _filled_ with robotic combat droids. They were in the warehouse too. Plus, I was attacked there by for Chivalric Arms agents. They killed a worker to get to me."

"Whoah. Whoah. Hold up. They _iced_ someone? Just like that?" Roman leaned forward. "You sure this is Chivalric Arms? They're an arms company."

Jaune's face became very, very cold. "They're much more than an arms company. So much more."

Roman wasn't sure what to believe. In the end it didn't matter. If he wanted to come out of this in one piece, he had to side with the dangerous kid in front of him. Keep him happy. Keep his attention aimed elsewhere. Be helpful, polite, and too valuable to get rid of. If that meant believing CA were some conspiracy group bent on world domination, then bring on the tinfoil hats!

"Fair enough. If they were sending people to collect the goods, they have a depot here at least. I know a guy," he said confidently. "Deals in information. Let me get in touch with him and I can have this checked out. You came to the right guy, kid."

"Yeah…"

"Geez. Try and sound a little more excited, yeah?" Though if he was willing to be patient, that was a good sign. Junior would have to be really pressed on this one – he didn't want the man half-arsing it. "One thing I do wonder, though, is why the robots. Seems like a weird thing to ship into Vale. Are they staging an invasion?"

"The droids are for me," Jaune said. "They're to stop me."

That much hardware for one person? Seemed like a waste. "You'd think they'd send huntsmen."

"Huntsmen don't do anything to me." The boy's smile was chilling, not only because of the fact he smiled at all, but the sad little edge to it as he said, "They die too easily."

Roman shivered.

/-/

Winter arrived at Beacon with Cardamom and Jasper ahead of General Ironwood and the main force, thanks in part to their presence in Mistral being closer, and because of the lesser preparation involved. They stepped off their aircraft at Beacon's docking points and moved toward the school building at a steady clip, leaving their pilot to handle the particulars.

_I wish I could go see how Weiss is doing,_ she thought. Her sister would be in lessons at this time and there would be opportunity to meet with her later. Still, she wished there were less pressing matters to deal with. The Vytal Festival would have been a fine time to catch up.

"Winter." Qrow met her, and for once without any vitriol.

Understanding the mood, Winter nodded swiftly back. "Qrow. Are you to escort me?"

"I am. You can leave your tagalongs behind."

"My `tagalongs` are soldiers," she said pointedly, "Not potted plants. Have there been rooms prepared for us? I can't well leave them standing in the middle of a schoolyard." There almost certainly were quarters prepped for them, but it was obvious Qrow didn't know. "They will wait outside the door if they must."

"Fair enough." Qrow turned away. Winter fell in beside him while her entourage marched behind. "Is Jimmy on his way?"

"Yes. He may take a day or two still. There are far more logistical concerns in moving a fleet than a single team. How is she?"

"Not in any danger. Knocked around, but awake and frustrated."

"That's good. Not the latter-"

"I know," he said grimly. "We both saw the aftermath in Mistral." He was unusually sober. "She's lucky to be alive at all."

Beacon was quiet inside, lessons in progress. Qrow took them to the infirmary, where she could see several figures inside. Waving Cardamom and Jasper to wait outside, she entered with Qrow, quickly spying Glynda Goodwitch laid out on a hospital bed with bandaging around her head and chest. The headmaster stood beside her, while a bouquet of flowers and several cards littered the nearby stand of drawers.

"Specialist Winter," Ozpin greeted. "I apologise for not being able to greet you officially."

"There's no issue. I understand this was a result of Jaune Arc."

"Yes."

"We underestimated him," Glynda croaked.

"Don't speak. You're on bed rest, Glynda."

"Bed rest doesn't mean I'm unable to form words." Struggling into a sitting position, the proud woman settled back on her pillows. "He was better than I expected him to be. Knowing of his Semblance helped initially, but he was able to assess the situation and see a way to take our Bullhead out the air. He even lured is into turning out backs on the crane."

"Did you maintain minimum distance?" Winter asked.

"We did. It wasn't enough. I thought that if I stayed outside it and hurled objects in, their momentum would hold. It worked, but I couldn't aim at him for fear of causing grievous harm. It wasn't as much an advantage as I thought it would be."

"It probably doesn't help that you announced your intent to arrest him," Qrow pointed out. "There went any chance of him giving up…"

"What was I supposed to do?" Glynda snapped. "Tell him we'd take him in peacefully and try to bring his aggressors to justice? There were witnesses everywhere, not to mention the VPD. It would have been an international incident."

"She's right," Winter said calmly. "Atlas' official stance on this is that Jaune Arc is a terrorist. Any and all negotiation with said terrorists is to be considered invalid. Had Atlas heard of Miss Goodwitch saying something along those terms, our ambassadors would have strong words for the Council."

"And the Council would have come to us," Ozpin confirmed. "They might even have tried to take him into custody and extradite him to Atlas for trial, where I'm sure he would disappear en route. Accidents happen after all. They could even say it was a botched rescue attempt by the White Fang, and that Jaune Arc and the crew perished. Our only hope is to arrest and hold him long enough to find the truth, and for that Glynda had no option but to use force."

"Great." Qrow laughed bitterly and took a long swig. "Then we're boned. Can't talk to him, can't do this peacefully, and sure as hell can't _fight_ him. What do we do, wait for Atlas to come turn Vale into a warzone?"

Winter scowled his way. "General Ironwood has no such intention."

"Oh, I'm not talking about intent. Jimmy might want to fix everything, but is the kid going to let him? Will he even listen, or does he just pull the trigger first? How many are dead now?"

"Five bodies were found in the warehouse," Ozpin said.

"Fuck's sake. Five more on his list."

"Not necessarily. One of those has been accounted for as an employee, but the other four are unknowns. And I do mean unknown. We've not been able to find record of them even after cross-referencing with Atlas and Mistral. All of them human, too, so little chance the White Fang is involved."

"Chivalric Arms?" Winter questioned.

Ozpin smiled sarcastically. "I'm sure the official answer would be that they're unaffiliated criminals. You should know that by now."

"Of course. Very well-armed and trained criminals." Winter sighed. "I'll let General Ironwood know. I hate to be insensitive and I apologise for talking on this in an infirmary, but what of the criminal he's apparently allied himself with?"

"No apparently involved. He freed Roman Torchwick from the VPC Central station. They were too busy responding to the train station and combing the city for Jaune Arc. They didn't expect him to come straight to them." Ozpin sighed. "He had no affiliation with the man before. There was nothing to suggest this course of action."

"He needs intel," Qrow grunted.

"The reasons _why_ are obvious in hindsight," Ozpin agreed. "Torchwick – for all his flair – is little more than a two-bit thief. His altercation with your niece and Glynda is the most violent he's ever been. What he lacks in ability, however, he more than makes up for in his ability to evade capture. I fear that with him working alongside his benefactor, it will be even harder to locate them. They will have gone to ground by now."

"Locate Chivalric Arms," Winter said instantly. "We know Arc will go there. We need to find them first."

"We've been trying. Peter and Bart combed Mountain Glenn and the nearby area."

"The city. It has to be in the city."

"And what, no one ever noticed?" Qrow asked. "It'd be easier to hide this in Grimm land, and they certainly have the firepower to pull it off. They're an arms company after all."

"While that's true, Jaune Arc will struggle to leave the city, and I doubt he would be staying here unless he had reason to believe his family are in the area. I've seen the records of the damage. There were combat droids in there, the likes of which the SDC use."

"This is the first I've heard of that," Ozpin said, eyes narrowing. "Where did you hear this?"

"Intelligence sent through to Atlas. Clover – he works for General Ironwood – was able to intercept it before it could go missing. The robots weren't stamped with the SDC logo. They were on the same shipment, but I've accessed the Schnee logs. There was no mention of them." Left unsaid was that Jacques was not fool enough to risk himself smuggling arms into another country, nor did he need the money one might offer for it. "CA has a presence in the city. Otherwise, they wouldn't risk bringing hardware like that anywhere close. They're already taking a great risk shipping weaponry here."

Ozpin tapped his fingers on his cane, eyes closed, and lips drawn into a thin line. "I fear you are correct," he eventually said. "While I will not say Vale's checks and customs are perfect, there'd be little point running illicit arms through the city if you didn't have to. The gates and docks have higher rates of catching drug and dust smuggling. The SDC is exempt from many security checks, making that vehicle a convenient way to smuggle goods into Vale."

"I can look into it," Qrow said.

"Do so. Keep Winter in touch. I'm sure she will report to James when he arrives?" He waited for her to nod in answer. "Good. I will have to speak with the Council. There's little I can do to change their minds, however. This is going to turn into a full-blown manhunt."

"I'd like to speak with the faunus you brought in," Winter said. "The one who worked with him."

"I would prefer you wait until James' arrival on that. One interview will be trying enough without the girl having to do it twice."

Winter's frustration mounted but she accepted it as she had to. Ozpin was in charge here, at least until General Ironwood arrived. With any luck, that would be only a day or two away. "As you wish, headmaster. If we're done, I'd like to speak with my sister."

"Yes. Thank you for coming. I have your contact details should I need you. The only thing I shall ask is that you hold your questions for myself. I have complete faith in her."

"In my sister…?"

"Not her. You'll see soon enough."

That didn't fill her with much in the way of confidence. Something told her it might be a good idea to expediate the meeting with her younger sister. Winter saluted, rounded on one foot, and marched out the door.

"I'll go with you," Qrow said, strolling up. "I know where their dorm is."

"That's appreciated. Let's go. Glynda, I hope you recover soon and well. I'm sure General Ironwood will come and see you once he arrives." Winter received a tired smile in return before the teacher went back to talking with Ozpin. Winter opened the door and stepped out.

Cardamom and Jasper saluted and fell in behind the two of them.

/-/

"Winter! You're here!"

Weiss' exuberant greeting would have earned her a sigh and a stern warning normally; she was a military officer and that had to be observed before their relation. Only once she confirmed herself here on non-work matters was it acceptable. In normal times, that was. Now, her attention was taken up by something _vastly _different.

Ozpin had partnered her sister with the defector.

Winter's fingers itched to draw her sabre. A warning cough from Qrow snapped her out of it and explained why he'd felt the need to come along. He knew. They all did, and no one bothered to tell her.

"Sister. It is good to see you." she replied, voice as warm as she could make it. Her eyes were fixed over her head, toward the nervous looking faunus sat on one of the beds. The girl was wise to feel fear. Winter imparted a warning with her gaze alone – _I'll be watching you._

"I didn't expect you so soon," Weiss gushed. "I'm not ready. Forgive our room – it's a mess!"

It was, though most of that was due to the strange bunkbed setup they had chosen. Bunkbeds were hardly unusual in the army, but the manner in which they'd jury rigged these together promised an accident later down the line. Why hadn't Weiss spoken to the headmaster? Surely there was something the school could do to prevent accidents.

"I'm here on business, Weiss, not solely the Vytal Festival. This is your team, I take it?"

"Ah. Yes." Weiss coughed and straightened herself. Good. "I apologise for not introducing you first – I had intended to pen a letter, but there hasn't been the time."

"Understandable. This visit is without warning. Continue."

"This is Team RWBY, led by my partner, Ruby Rose, with Ruby's sister, Yang Xiao-Long, and her partner Blake Belladonna."

"Nice to meet you!" Weiss' partner said quietly.

"Hey there," the blond greeted.

Winter ignored them both. Her and the faunus stared one another down. The girl – no, the White Fang agent – raised a hand and uttered a quiet greeting. Weiss didn't appear to notice the tension in the air.

"Blake's quiet," she explained away. "And I know I'm not team leader, but I'm working on helping Ruby become adept at the role. I have complete faith in her-"

"Weiss." The address had her clamming up. "There is no shame in not being made team leader. I'm sure you will learn just as much following orders as giving them. That is how I started within the military. Good day to the rest of you as well. I apologise for the shortness of this. I am Winter Schnee, Specialist of Atlas. Weiss, may I have a word with you outside?"

"Is Weiss in trouble?" the blonde asked.

Though her sister would never dare ask it, Winter could see the same question reflected in her. "Not at all," she said. "I only want to explain on her the reason why I'm here. My sister is free to relate it back to you if she wishes, but there are some matters of family we must speak on." Looking back, she said, "I'm sure Qrow will be content to keep you company."

_Traitor_, Qrow mouthed.

"Uncle Qrow's there? UNCLE QROW!"

Winter sacrificed the scraggly man to the missile his niece became, drawing her own sister away. With a quick nod to Cardamom and Jasper, she had them fanning out to ensure no one could come close enough to listen in. Weiss noticed and looked more than a little alarmed. It wasn't every day they spoke under armed escort.

"Winter," she whispered. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, though it's not you." Winter kept her own voice low. "You've heard of the case of Jaune Arc, I presume?"

"Of course. He hurt Miss Goodwitch yesterday, didn't he? It was all over the news and the headmaster made an announcement this morning. He's substituting for her lessons himself." Weiss stopped speaking when Winter raised a hand.

"I only asked if you knew of him."

"I-I'm sorry."

"You can decipher, then, why I might be here in Vale."

"You're here to bring him to justice."

Justice. That word was absent from so much lately that hearing her beloved sister utter it left her cold and empty. "Yes. That's right." She couldn't tell Weiss the truth, not and risk her sister trying to do something about it. She was so strong willed that she might try swinging her weight around to absolve the boy, and that would draw Chivalric Arms – or whomever was behind this – down on her. "I'm here to locate and stop him if possible, though I shall be waiting for the rest of the military to arrive before I make any concerted efforts at that."

"You'll get him," Weiss said confidently. "I know you will."

_I wish I had an ounce of your faith in me,_ she thought. Against Jaune Arc, she was sadly more helpless than Glynda. At least she could use her Semblance to throw objects into his range. Her summons would presumably cease to exist the moment they came close to him. Her only option, therefore, would be to close into melee. That was a poor idea even if she _was_ many times more skilled than he. One mistake would cost her life.

"I'm grateful for your belief, Weiss. The reason I wanted to speak with you, however, is to warn you of his previous allegiances. You know that he worked with the White Fang before arriving in Vale. I have no reason to believe he would hate us for our name, but considering their mutual agreement, he may well act against you if he is asked to by them." Winter took a deep breath, knowing this would not be accepted easily. "I want you to stay in Beacon."

Weiss blinked up at her. "I already decided to stay here."

"No, Weiss. I mean that you cannot enter the city of Vale. I want you _in_ Beacon at all times."

"Sister, no, that's unfair!" Weiss' protest was as immediate as it was expected. "You can't put a _curfew_ on me. No, this isn't even that – it's house arrest! We'd planned to go out as a team this weekend. We were going to solve our issues over dinner-"

"You can do so in the cafeteria. I hear Beacon's cuisine is unmatched."

Weiss bit back words she'd no doubt regret and stomped her foot. "Winter!"

"No, Weiss. I am putting my foot down on this. Jaune Arc is a deadly risk-"

"I'm a huntress! I can fight him if he tries anything."

For a second, she thought she'd been shot – so _violent_ was the twist in her gut. The thought of Weiss and Jaune even close to one another terrified her. "Absolutely not!" she roared, making Weiss jump back in fright. Cardamom and Jasper looked over worriedly, and she fought to bring her temper under control. "Absolutely not," she repeated in a calmer tone. "This is not someone I want you anywhere near, let alone facing. Remove the very thought from your mind. If you were to go up against him, you would be leaving beaten if you are fortunate. In a body bag if you are not." Weiss opened her mouth, but Winter wouldn't have it. "Don't argue with me, Weiss! I've seen what he can do. You haven't!"

"I… well yes, I… I didn't say I wanted to go find him…" She swallowed and straightened herself up, trying in vain to stand her ground. "But you can't lock me to Beacon. You – You don't have the authority to do so."

"On the contrary. It won't be announced until General Ironwood arrives, but he is taking over Vale's security for the Vytal Festival. As a soldier under his employ and a commanding officer myself, that means I have power to make decisions that influence the safety of the city and its citizens."

"How is that relevant to this? I'm not-"

"If you were to go out in public and Jaune Arc decides to take you captive, it would place everyone near you in danger." Winter watched understanding, and anger, dawn on Weiss' face. "As such, you are a danger to those around you. It is therefore my decision – and my order – that Weiss Schnee is to be detained if she is seen attempting to leave Beacon other than for school-sanctioned trips. Once the Festival starts, you and your team shall be granted escort to and from the stadium."

"Winter, you can't do this!"

"I can and I have," she said. "I'm sorry, Weiss. You will understand in time why this is necessary."

In time, but not now. Weiss was too proud to cry and too disciplined to scream in anger. Instead, she rounded on one foot, slapping Winter's chest with her hair, and stormed away, never once looking back. The door to Team RWBY's dorm opened and _slammed_ shut. Winter released a long breath, running a hand through her hair.

"You did the right thing, ma'am," Jasper said. "Anyone would have done the same."

"I know. That doesn't make it any easier, however. At least this way she will be safe. Arc has no reason to attack Beacon and would be a fool to do so."

* * *

**Oh God, this internet. Spent three hours on the phone today trying to sort things out and every single person has a different explanation for what is going on. To say nothing of me being made to do router reset after router reset on each call because they "have to go through the basics". It's driving me insane and I **_**still**_** have no internet, despite three different people telling me they'll "have it on within the next thirty minutes".**

**Gah!**

**Update: It's done! It's fixed! Four hours total of calls. Much faffing with router settings. Some climbing to toy with aerial. I have internet! Gosh, today has been a rough day...**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 29****th**** June**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	21. Chapter 21

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because **_**obviously**_** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 21**

* * *

"I'm not messing around here, Junior."

"When do you ever?" the bartender asked, squeezing a dry cloth into a glass and running it around until it was squeaky clean. He hooked it above the bar and reached for another. It kept his hands busy and bought time for him to look his favourite customer up and down. "For someone out a cell for over a day now, you're looking rough, Roman."

His rough was another man's smart casual, but Roman was usually the height of fashion. He was the kind of guy who'd press his coat before going out and wear makeup to cover any blemishes. The bags under his eyes were all kinds of worrying, and his white overcoat was wrinkled and smudged with grime.

"I'm about to look and feel a lot worse if I can't follow through on what I've claimed."

"This on that kid the newspapers are going on about?"

Roman flinched and looked back over his shoulder. There, by the door, a youngish blond lad in a hoodie was being pestered by the twins. It was too far to make out his expression but judging by how the girls were leaning all over him, it must have been indifferent. They only acted like that when they were miffed someone wasn't giving the attention.

"He doesn't look that bad," Junior said.

"Looks can be deceiving. He's in a good mood since I promised him progress – and I don't want to see that change to a bad mood. You don't either."

"That goes without saying, but I'm not yanking your chain for no reason. Only Chivalric Arms operation I know of in the area is their subsidiary offices on the Boulevard. That's household robotics, though."

"He saw military robots."

"I'm not saying he didn't, Roman. Only that they're smuggling them better than I can find 'em if that's the case. Then again, I've not been looking. If you could give me time…"

Roman slapped his hands down on the bar and leaned over to hiss, "I don't _have_ time."

"And I don't have the intel," Junior whispered back, meeting him halfway. "I'm an information broker, not a fortune teller. I need something to work with. If I had this, I'd give it. You know you're my pal, Roman. Only reason I put up with you running through my boys like a lawnmower."

"Fuck." It was uncharacteristic of Roman to swear so vulgarly, or to stand up and run a hand through his unkempt hair. "Fuckity fuck. I can't begin to tell you how bad my week has been, Junior. I didn't need this. Prison would have been easier."

"He that bad…?"

"He's unhinged. Dangerous." Roman's eyes slid to the left, but he refused to look back. "I don't know what it is that makes him so dangerous, but if it's enough to have Atlas on his ass and him relaxed enough to go to sleep around me, it's not something I want to tangle with."

He didn't even know-? "Might be bravado."

"Bravado doesn't put Goodwitch in the hospital! Bravado doesn't have a guy storm a police station alone without giving a fuck. I've _heard_ of his body count." He leaned in to whisper, "He told me huntsmen aren't a problem because – and get this – they die too easily."

Junior wasn't a man used to feeling fear. What he felt at that moment wasn't crippling fear either, but a sudden chill that had his eyes flicking back to the man with his girls. _Those two better be okay._ Shifting his position so he could reach for his weapon under the bar if he needed it, Junior leaned an elbow on the desk and crooked a finger. Roman emulated him, leaning on one elbow until they were face to face.

"I ain't got anything for you, Roman, but I might be able to get something. Knowing that ought to keep him satisfied, yeah?"

"I hope so, Junior. I really do. What do you have?"

"Arms have to be shipped. I've got contacts in haulage and might be able to lean on those a little. Everything is tracked nowadays – if not the cargo then at least the vehicles it's shipped in. Now, they might be spooked after he attacked them. Might be spooked enough to go low. They'll still need to dispose of those droids, though. Big incident if they don't. I can't guarantee they'll be shipping them to the right place, but I can find `a place`. Or wherever it is they move them. You might be able to find more from wherever that is."

Roman released a long breath. "You're a lifesaver, Junior. You're a damned saint."

"I'm a man trying to make ends meet. Just do your best to come out of this alive – and to keep him and whatever he does away from me and the girls."

"I'll be trying. Not easy, though. Between him, Cinder, and the White Fang, I'm trapped between a rock, a hot place, and the gates of hell. Only upside is that none of those lot are against one another. He worked with the Fang before."

"Might be an in for you," Junior pointed out. "Still, you're more anxious about this kid than you are Cinder, even though you and I both know she can't be trusted to keep you alive. What's the rub there?"

"Cinder is a monster, don't get me wrong. But she's a monster with a goal in mind and for that, she needs me. Him." Roman looked back. The kid was steadfastly ignoring the Malachites and watching them from all the way across the club. "He's one of those kinds."

"Those kinds…?"

"The ones with nothing to lose. Father defending a child. Druggie with a back against the wall. Someone struggling to make ends meet turning to crime." Roman waved his hand. "You know the type."

"I do."

Dangerous not because they were good at what they did – they often weren't – but because their breaking point was so much further. Most people, even among the underworld, were held back if not by moral compunction then by fear of consequences.

You didn't kill because that turned your simple court case and maybe six months in prison into twenty years or life. You didn't backstab those you worked with because getting a larger cut wasn't worth having everyone in Vale gunning for you. You avoided harming the police too much because they were just doing their jobs, and because if they acted out too much, the whole business would get hammered down.

There weren't rules in the underworld, but there was an understanding. Unwritten agreements. Common sense.

The same didn't apply for `those kinds` of people. They'd do anything because they no longer cared about what happened to them. It was like facing a man with nothing to lose in a game of poker. You never knew what hands they'd go all-in on and reading them was impossible. In a standoff, they'd be the first to pull the trigger.

In short, they were dangerous. Too dangerous for Junior to let into his crew. It was part of the reason why, for all his faults, he stayed far away from the loan shark business. Collecting protection money was one thing; rinsing people dry and then expecting them not to shank you was another.

"You're keeping rough company, Roman."

"Trust me, I know. So, any idea of a timeframe…?"

Junior considered. Normally, he'd need a week. "I'll see what I can do in twenty-four hours." He watched Roman's face register clear relief. "I'm not making any promises, though. I'll work my contacts hard but make sure he knows that! I'm not a miracle worker. If it takes two, it takes two."

"I'll see what I can do. I've got plans to distract him for today. That won't last, though. He wants results, and if I want to come out of this alive, I need to deliver."

"I get it, Roman." Junior sighed and picked up his scroll, waving it as proof. "I'll get onto my contacts right now."

Roman slid a hefty chunk of lien onto the bar. "Much appreciated."

/-/

Jaune had never been used to attention from girls unrelated to him, especially of the pretty kind. Ansel had been so small a village that his class in school was only eight people in his year, four boys and four girls. None of them had been as pretty as the two hovering over him now, bright eyed, pale skin and dark hair. The twins were undeniably attractive.

"Come on. I bet you could be cute if you smiled."

"Not handsome?" the one in red asked coyly.

"With that face and hair? Nah. Cute is about as good as it gets." She waited, staring up. "Aw. I really thought that'd get a reaction. You know, the whole `cut from stone` thing isn't as hot as most guys think it is."

"Mel's right. Guys think it's cool in movies and all, but you'll look better if you show a little emotion."

He wasn't trying to be hot, though. In fact, he _wanted_ to be forgettable. It was the best thing right now. Jaune shrugged without saying a word, unsure if he was nerves or apathy that had him not reacting one way or the other. Apathy about this, anyway. His eyes kept returning to Roman and the `information broker` at the bar, waiting to see if anything was revealed.

"Oi. Oi. Don't ignore someone when they're talking to you."

Jaune looked back to an angry, pouting, face. It was so like what one of his sisters might have given if he ignored them that he said, "Sorry" without thinking.

"It speaks! Big, broody and silent has a voice!"

Great. And just like his sisters, they were going to jump on him for cracking. Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the cold reassuring touch of Mors. He was careful not to draw or show it since Roman said these people were allies. _He said it like he thought I'd go on a killing spree too. How bad does he think I am? _He only wanted to save his family. Aside from _not_ being an evil motivation, he wasn't going to get closer to saving them by starting gunfights with random people.

"Girls. Girls." Roman swayed back toward them with a cocky smile and his arms open. The two women danced over and squeezed into his side, wrapping their arms around him as he did them. It looked more like a routine than anything, especially when Roman slapped the hands of the red one away. "Back, feisty. That's my wallet you're reaching for."

"One day, Roman."

"When I'm old and retired, sure." He winked, pinched her behind and laughed off the savage slice of her claws that grated along the aura of his arm. He didn't make a move to grope the one in white, but instead pushed her off him gently. "Alright, you two. Let's leave my acquaintance alone. Junior needs your help with something."

"Yeah?" Red crossed her arms. "And what might this `something` be?"

"Something of the walking away so me and my partner here can have a private conversation kind." Roman winked and shooed the giggling girls off. "Those two are a handful, huh? They didn't bother you, did they?"

"No. They reminded me of my sisters."

"Probably not the angle they were gunning for if I'm honest. You know, it's not healthy to compare every woman you see to one of your family. Makes you look obsess- well, never mind. I've spoken with Junior."

Jaune stood straighter. "And…?"

"And he's going to look into it right away. Hoping to have details within a day." Roman looked nervous as he said it. "CA are doing well at staying hidden and Junior hasn't had reason to look into them before. He's going to track the containers you found, or more specifically the vehicles themselves. Once he's found them, we'll see where they're going and hit there. If it's not the place where someone is kept prisoner, it should at least be a lead to find them."

It was so much more than he'd had before, aimlessly wandering around Vale. "That's good."

"It is!? I-I mean yeah, it's good." Roman laughed quickly. "Not perfect, mind, I was hoping he'd know straight out, but if these people weren't good at staying hidden, that wasn't going to happen." He fished out a cigar. Jaune noticed how the man's hands fumbled one and then failed to light it three times. "I'm happy as long as you're happy, kid."

Liar. Roman was terrified. Of him. Jaune wasn't so blind that he couldn't see it. _Should I say something? He's doing his best and it wouldn't hurt to be on good terms._ Blake's face flashed through his mind. No. It was best if Roman was afraid. It would keep him from trying to abandon him.

"It's good enough," Jaune said. "I'll give you time. What do we do for now?"

"Well, I told you I had a little work of my own on the side, right? Now I'm not saying you should work for me!" he quickly said. "But I do have an agreement with some people I need to honour. One of those is the White Fang, and I thought you might want to get in contact…?"

It was phrased as a question, Roman's voice rising toward the end to make it abundantly clear he was happy to let it go if Jaune had a problem. He didn't. One of his plans had been to contact the White Fang in Vale anyway, and he still needed a way to get in touch with Adam and find out if Hazel and Jade were safe. This was that opportunity.

"Okay."

"Okay-? I mean great! Fantastic." Roman placed a hand on his back and steered him toward the door. "Those anim- Those people aren't great fans of mine, so maybe this'll be a good way for both of us to break the ice. They ought to know you, human or not. I arranged a meeting today if you want to come with."

"Do they know about me?" Jaune asked.

"Had to tell them. They'd have seen who freed me on the news, and I didn't want them spooked if they saw me coming along with another human. You still have your mask, right?" Jaune nodded. "Great. We can hook up with them, help the Fang and get some allies for when we hit CA. Three birds with one stone."

Four if he counted doing whatever job Roman had before this. It was obvious he wasn't going to admit to that, though. _Should I really be helping him? I guess it's not a big deal. He's a thief, so the worst that happens is we're stealing stuff. Probably dust._ That was how he'd been arrested in the first place. _I've already thrown my lot in with the White Fang, so I doubt my criminal record gets any bigger with a robbery._

And if he could stock up on dust, gain more allies and supply those allies for when they attacked Chivalric Arms, then it wasn't for nothing. It wasn't wasting time. If nothing else, helping the White Fang would please Adam.

"I'll help," he said, watching Roman relax. "Just be sure to keep your end of the bargain."

"Trust me, kid. I intend to."

/-/

"Can you believe this!? A curfew! A curfew keeping me out of an entire city!"

"It's not fair," Ruby said.

"It's not!" For once, Weiss sided with her partner, and against her own sister no less. "It's ridiculous. Thank you, Ruby. At least _someone_ understands that."

"I didn't say it was right," Yang argued.

"Not you. I meant Winter. I just… argh!" Weiss collapsed on her bed, rocking the bunk above her precariously. "I can't believe she'd do this. You can't just lock me out of the city. How am I meant to get dust? How am I meant to go shopping?"

"Online."

Weiss shot Blake an angry glower. "Not the point. And what about the Vytal Festival? I want to see the parade and the shows in the city. I want to walk around Vale. What about weekends? It's not like you're all going to stay here. You'll be going out for meals or shopping and I'll be stuck here on my own."

"I won't be," Blake said. "I can stay with you."

"What?" Yang made an aggrieved sound. "Oh, come on. Weiss, I can understand, but don't tell me you're planning to stay in Beacon all year long."

"That's exactly what I'm planning."

"No way. Nuh-uh. No partner of mine is being that much a shut-in. I'm taking you out even if I have to drag you out."

Good luck to her. Blake had zero interest or intention of leaving the safety of Beacon, at least until everything in the city was dealt with. While she wasn't under the same curfew Weiss was, the headmaster had still made it clear her every action would be watched. Even if they hadn't been, she'd have avoided the city for the sake of avoiding Jaune.

Part of the reason why Winter had ordered Weiss to stay in Beacon had to be because of who her partner was. She'd framed it like Jaune would go after her for being a Schnee, which wasn't likely. On the other hand, Weiss being close to _her_ out in the city was far more dangerous. All bets were off if Jaune saw her. _Hence why I need to stay here until he's left. I can order books online if I need to. I'm not going anywhere near him._

"And all for this one guy," Weiss complained. "As if I couldn't defend myself against him."

"I know, right? He's just one gu-"

"You can't." Blake's interruption annoyed three quarters of her team. Or more like half – Ruby looked more worried than annoyed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yang demanded. "Are you saying we're weak?"

"I'm just saying that if he hurt Miss Goodwitch and Winter Schnee is telling us he's dangerous, then maybe it's because he is. Not to mention your Uncle was here. He must have run into him as well. I bet if you asked, he'd tell you to stay away."

Blake wished she could, but the headmaster had been clear on what she could and couldn't do. No mention of anything regarding Jaune or the White Fang was to cross her lips. Her teammates didn't need to know, and the more people who did, the more who might be at risk to either Chivalric Arms or Jaune himself. To hear it from Ozpin, Team RWBY didn't _need_ to know, because they were not to ever be in a position where that information would matter.

"_Stay out of trouble, Miss Belladonna, and we shall have no problems. What you were before – all you knew before – no longer applies. You are a student. That is all you are. Remember that, for is the old Blake Belladonna returns, I won't be able to keep you out of a cell."_

Ozpin's words echoed in her head. That her own team would be the ones putting her in danger was as hilarious as it was frightening. The fact she couldn't warn them without giving everything away only made it worse.

"So he's a tough customer," Yang said. "We're a team of four. Numbers count."

_Not against him, it doesn't. _Blake tried hard not to overreact. The conversation alone had her unnaturally tense, coiled like a spring ready to jump at the slightest provocation. Beacon was safe. She was safe.

"We're in training," she pointed out. "We're not huntresses."

"Yet. He's our age, too. How much more training can he have?"

"It doesn't matter. Weiss isn't allowed out of Beacon and I'm not going anywhere near him. You and Ruby shouldn't either, even if you _do_ happen to see him on the street. Get away. Call the police. Leave it to them."

"Sheesh. You scared of him or something?"

Terrified. "Cautious," she lied. "Because I can tell that Winter Schnee, General Ironwood and the headmaster all working together to stop someone means they're not someone to mess with. He put Miss Goodwitch in the infirmary." Blake stared over the top of her book. "He could put you in the morgue."

Yang rolled her eyes while Weiss huffed and turned away from her, apparently deciding that if Blake wasn't going to side with her, she was going to be ignored. Neither of them were taking Jaune seriously. Blake's fingers dug into her book, stretching the cover out. Why were they being so stupid about this? It was common sense to stay away from a dangerous killer.

"No one is saying anything about trying to find him," Ruby said, ever the mediator. "We're just saying Weiss shouldn't be punished just because other people can't do their jobs and catch him."

"Precisely. Thank you, Ruby. I'm glad someone understands."

"We could sneak her out," Yang suggested. "How is Winter really going to keep an eye on her at all times? Dress you up, get you a wig, and no one will be able to tell."

"I will."

Yang rolled her eyes. "No one was asking you, Blake."

Her book fell flat on her knees. It wasn't like she was reading it; as exhausting as this topic was, she could hardly focus at all. "Maybe not, but I can go to the headmaster if you try."

"Wow, Blake. Wow." Yang gave her a disappointed scowl. "Didn't realise my partner was the kind of person to rat on us to the teachers the second we do something wrong…"

"Well now you know," she said.

"Traitor…"

Blake flinched. Yang had only muttered it, and without any real heat, but the title stabbed into her chest all the same. Swallowing, and with hands shaking, she picked her book back up and turned away, offering her back as the others hugged together and muttered angrily about Winter and now also her.

It was better they _all_ stay in Beacon until the tournament was over and Jaune was gone. With any luck, he'd either find his family and get out, or be captured by Ironwood. And if her teammates really did want to try and sneak Weiss out, she'd go to Winter herself. It was for their own good.

Jaune would _murder_ them if they got in his way.

/-/

"A graveyard?" Jaune hissed. "The White Fang want to meet in a graveyard?"

"Not my idea of a good spot either," the thief whispered back. "Theatrical bunch, these lot. I wouldn't be surprised if they used secret handshakes. Least they're meeting at night," he added, lighting a cigar. "Might as well make use of that night vision."

Adam liked to plan his operations at night for the same reason. After a while, he'd gotten used to it. The graveyard was a large thing with tall hedges acting as barriers broken up by wrought iron gates that had been left open. It wasn't a small patch of ground on a pretty hill like Ansel's communal burial spot.

It was an acre or more of privately owned ground with hundreds, if not thousands, of tomb stones, cairns, and sites. Some of them were obviously more expensive than others with statues and tombs, while others were cement blocks with numerous slots, bronzed plaques on the front for the departed like apartment blocks for the dead. It looked rough and cruel to him, but then what were you meant to do with so little space for so many people? There was a reason most people favoured cremation.

Roman brought them to a spot hidden away between a cairn with two dog statues at the front and one of the `apartment block graves`. Jaune idled away reading the plaques on those. Names, lives, hopes and dreams summarised into a name, date, and unimaginative one-liner.

Loved by all. Pillar of the community. Mother, wife, and best friend. He brought laughter to our lives. Missed but never forgotten. Jaune dragged his eyes away, wondering if his life and all the things he'd been through would one day be condensed into that and, if so, what it would be. Loved his family too much. He went too far. Brother, son, murderer.

"Hey." Roman looked over, hand extended. "Want one?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't smoke. Thank you…"

"You sure? I didn't start because I thought it looked cool or because I wanted to spend all this money on it. Good for nerves. Helps you relax."

Jaune swallowed and answered as his mother had always told him. "They're bad for your health."

"And doing all this isn't? Bullets, blood, and bombs. People like us are lucky if we live long enough to die naturally. Sometimes the temporary benefits are more useful than a cost we're unlikely to make it to." Roman took the packet away and puffed on his own, drawing in a deep breath and relaxing. "Suit yourself. Offer's open if you change your mind."

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Smoking was one of those things he'd never seen the point of. Not why people kept doing it – addiction was addiction – but he'd never understood logically why people started. You smelt of smoke, it was expensive, it was unhealthy, and then you had to deal with pangs and addiction. It'd never seemed like there was a good reason for it other than some weird `cool factor` and the whole stress reliever part never seemed important. Now he knew why.

It was because he'd never in his life felt real stress. As a fortunate and mostly happy idiot living in relative peace, he'd thought stress was that horrible feeling you got when you handed in late homework or didn't clean your room perfectly and hoped your mom didn't notice the crap you'd shoved into your drawers or under the bed. That wasn't real stress. It wasn't even close. Real stress was suffocating, smothering and painful. It had every muscle in his body wound up tight and his stomach ready to expel all food.

Jaune considered asking for a cigarette. If it could wash that away for even a minute, it would be worth any cost. The White Fang took that moment away however, stepping out from the main path. Three of them in total, all masked. Jaune wore his own, covering the upper half of his nose and eyes.

"Well," Roman said. "Looks like the party is here. Now we can-"

"Wait, human." The lead faunus held out a hand. "We'd like to see your companion without his mask. To make sure. I hope you understand." Jaune reached up and removed it, sliding the mask up to show his eyes, and even activating his Semblance so they swirled with colour. "It _is_ you!"

The leader reached to his waist. Jaune tensed. As did Roman. What came out wasn't a weapon, however. It was a scroll.

"We were told to find you," the leader said. "Our orders were to locate and take you to safety. We weren't able to. The number we were given had its calls blocked, and finding you was… well, not easy. There's someone who wants to speak to you."

Could it be…? Jaune stepped forward and took the scroll. The White Fang made no move to stop him or draw weapons. The call was active, the image distorted, but he could hear breathing on the other side. Pulling it up to his ear, Jaune spoke.

"Adam…?"

"_Jaune."_

"Adam! It's you!" Jaune paced suddenly to the side, all but ignoring Roman and the terrorists. "You have _no idea_ how relieved I am to hear your voice. Adam, everything has gone wrong. Everything!"

"_I know. Blake has betrayed us."_

"Me too." Jaune could hear the fury. It matched his own all too closely. "I can't believe it. She told me you said to go ahead while you cut the train, then she found us a place to stay, offered to take first watch and ran. She even took my scroll. Destroyed her own. Just left me in the middle of Vale! I've been chased every day since!"

"_Her betrayal is something she will pay for, Jaune, believe me on that. I'm glad to hear you're alive. I knew you wouldn't turn on us after what we did. I contacted the White Fang in Vale and told them to find you as quickly as they could."_

"Thank you. I wish I could have found them first. I wanted to, but I had no idea where they'd be." Jaune gasped. "How are Jade and Hazel? Please tell me they're okay!"

"_Safe,"_ Adam replied. _"No one doubted you on our end. There was simply no way you would betray us and leave them behind. We had to continue our journey to Menagerie with the dust we'd taken. They've safely met up with Ilia, Lavender and Coral. I'll be providing you a number to call them soon. In the meantime I've met with Sienna and explained the situation. She is angry, obviously, but more with Blake than you. I'll be sure to pass on that you're still loyal…?"_

It was a question. "I'm still in on the plan," he confirmed. The White Fang nearby relaxed noticeably. "In fact, I was going to help the White Fang here secure some dust."

"_That would be appreciated. I'll be coming to Vale soon. We've partnered up with some… humans. I won't say I trust them, but with Blake's betrayal, we now know Beacon is aware of us. Getting into Vale without outside help would be all but impossible for me otherwise." _

"Alright. We're looking into Chivalric Arms at the minute. If we find a place, I'm going to hit it. I know I should wait for you, but they know I'm here. They've already sent people after me."

"_I won't ask you to delay. I know you wouldn't. All I'll ask is that you be careful."_ Adam paused. There was an audible sigh over the line. _"I'm glad you're okay, Jaune. I feared the worst when Blake left us."_

"Yeah. How… How are you doing? I know you and here were-"

"_Whatever we were, we're not anymore. Let's leave it at that. I can't talk for much longer. I don't doubt Chivalric Arms will have some means of tracing calls from Menagerie to Vale. They will know we will want to be in contact. Destroy that scroll once you're done with it."_

"How will we get in contact?"

"_I will initiate if I need to. Otherwise, I'll be there within the week. Jaune, listen to me."_ Adam's voice dropped, making it clear the following was to be private. _"The White Fang you are with are not the same as mine. You can't expect them to be. They're volunteers. Amateurs. Send them against Chivalric Arms and they will drop like flies. You can't rely on them to have your back like I or Blake used to. They will try their best, but they won't be able to match us. Keep that in mind. Information gathering, courier or scouting jobs they can do well, but they're not proper combatants. They'll flee at the first sign of trouble. The military teams we faced in Mistral will tear them to pieces."_

"I get it. Anything I do, I'll have to do on my own. I have Roman anyway," he said, eyeing the man. "He's at least huntsmen level, and he knows better than to stab me in the back."

"_Loyalty is important. Learn the lesson I didn't."_

"I will." Jaune closed his eyes. "What about Blake? You want me to do something about her?"

"_No. Blake is mine to deal with. You have your own priorities."_

"Right."

"_And one last thing. The person I'm working with seemed to be… interested in you. Or more specifically, your Semblance."_ Jaune hummed in answer, unsurprised. Everyone was interested in his Semblance nowadays. _"I warned her against trying to manipulate you. I'm not sure how well that went. Be wary. The White Fang wants to use you as well, but at least we're honest about it."_

"I'll be careful."

"_Good. I've already instructed Vale's White Fang to follow your orders." _Jaune sucked in a sharp breath. The question was on his lips. _"I know it's sudden. I know you don't think you're not good enough. I won't even say you're wrong. You're the best we have in the area, however. You saw how I handled things. You're intelligent. Driven. But more importantly, you're one of the few remaining I can trust."_

"I… I understand. I'll lead them until you arrive."

"_Thank you. It won't take me long. We'll talk more when I do. Both about how we'll rescue your family, and how we'll deal with the traitor. I'll see you soon." _The call ended. Jaune let the scroll swing down to his side and then tumble from his fingers. It shattered on the concrete pathway, but he dug a heel into and ground it down just in case. The White Fang didn't seem bothered. They probably knew what had been decided.

Roman didn't and responded with complete surprise to Jaune's words. "I'm leading the White Fang in Vale."

"You!? I-I mean, sure, why not? May as well be you. Maybe that means they'll be a little less useless. No news from Junior just yet," he said, "But it's still early." It wasn't. It was late at night, but maybe that was early for a thief. "There's a few dust shops me and the boys were meant to be hitting. Gathering dust for the Fang." He gestured to the faunus, who nodded that it was the case. "Might be a chance for you to get your toes wet."

"I'm not exactly new to this."

Roman winced. "I meant toes wet in thieving, not blood."

"That's not what I… No, never mind." Even if Jaune hadn't meant it, there was no denying Roman was spot on. Complaining about it wouldn't make Junior work any faster. Best to busy himself with something. "Show me where we're hitting. You can handle the breaking in and stealing."

"And what'll you be doing?"

"I shall be handling any huntsmen or huntresses that show up."

His eyes flickered but didn't change. The barest hint of gold could be seen within them, but the colours that usually followed remained absent. Roman shivered as a chill ran over him but he didn't know yet what that meant. He hadn't placed the subtle sensation of his aura dissipating outside his control. All he knew was that something happened, and his body didn't like it.

"Y-Yeah." Roman puffed his cigar agitatedly. "You do you, boss man. I'm just the hired help."

* * *

**Hm. A weekend where nothing went wrong. No dog accidents, no internet power outs, business drama or anything. It is… suspicious. I've woken up today with nothing to panic about. Is this what calm feels like? Oh wow. That's a thing. Whoah.**

**For those asking, my elderly dog's vet visit went okay. He's put some weight on again and his protein levels are up. His hips are failing sadly (German Shepherds often suffer from poor hips due to the unhealthy posture bread into the species) and that's a sign he's reaching the end of his life, but that would be a peaceful end and hopefully not imminent. The drugs he's on, though. Yikes. There's 15 of one set of pills a day, one big pill that I can't handle with bare hands, 20ml of a syringe to be taken orally, and 3 sachets of B12 vitamin powder which luckily just sprays over food.**

**The pills are easy. He's always been food motivated. The oral medicine… not so easy. Not at all. 20ml sounds like so little until it's in a syringe and then yikes. That's a lot.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 6****th**** July**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	22. Chapter 22

**So, there were no updates this weekend due to the passing away of my oldest dog, the one I'd been taking to and from the vet for the past few months. Thanks to everyone understanding why I couldn't update this weekend and I didn't get a single "Where is the chapter!?" PM for which I am grateful. **

**I'll be trying to move things back to normal now. Still feeling rough, but it's more in the `sad moments when looking at spots he used to occupy and finding him missing` kind of way. And seeing my surviving puppy spend her time looking for him.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 22**

* * *

"Just stay down and no one has to get hurt."

Roman waved his cigar toward the three employees of the dust store who were huddling behind the counter holding onto one another. The White Fang moved between the shelves with jars and metal briefcases, draining dust and storing them within the velvet lined metal. They moved quickly – too quickly – with the haste of people not used to criminal activity and worried about being caught. In that sense, they weren't as disciplined as Adam's crew. Then again, these were fresh volunteers. Everyday people. They looked at _him_ like he was a dust bomb about to go off.

Not as much as the frightened staff did. Roman might have enjoyed bossing them around but it was him they kept their eyes on, flinching whenever he looked their way. He'd stopped a few minutes ago, focusing on the street outside instead when it became too awkward to see a grown man almost cry at the sight of him.

"Ah. The smell of a successful operation." Roman came up beside him. Jaune couldn't help but think `success` smelled like tobacco. Too much of it. "Much easier when Beacon is in term. No random appearances from ridiculously powerful huntresses to ruin your day."

"Weren't you captured by a fifteen-year-old?"

"Goodwitch. I meant Goodwitch." Roman frowned at him for all of the three seconds it took him to realise who he was crossing. Jaune was almost disappointed when Roman flinched and adopted a much humbler tone. "Course, it helps you took her out. Nice to have a job go without a hitch for once."

"Should you say that so early? The police could show."

"Haven't so far. This is the last hit of the night, too. You know why they're so slow, don't you?"

Jaune had an inkling. "Because I'm here."

"Bingo. They probably want to gather the squads to face you – that takes time. Can't afford to split up and run into you with anything less than full power, so by hitting multiple places in one night, we stack the odds in our favour."

"You think they're at one of the previous places we hit?"

"Almost certainly. Dust stores get robbed all the time; the stock is valuable, easy to transport and easy to sell on. Not every time one gets hit by Jaune Arc, though. They'll focus their attentions on where they know you've definitely been, not where you `might` be."

If that were true, then they'd never catch him. It sounded backwards to him, but he wasn't in charge of a police force made up of everyday people with limited training and little chance against his Semblance. Maybe it was best for the VPD if they didn't run into him, and they might have known that. By keeping the heat on him, they made it so he had to do things a little quicker. Was it all some message? Do your business quickly and without harming anyone? Probably not. He was reading into things too much.

A few vehicles blurred past in the rain, splashing the sidewalk with water and casting dizzying lights from full beams through the windows. They shone over his face, illuminating him in a garish light that had one of the employees whimpering. It was pathetic, frustrating but also perfectly justified. Jaune sighed and wished he could put in some headphones and music to cut it all out.

_It's amazing how easily Atlas convinced the world I'm a murdering psychopath. _That was the power of Governments, he supposed. Probably media and propaganda and all the things Adam said kept the White Fang back from peaceful actions as well. _Doesn't help that Chivalric Arms killed that man working at the train station. That's probably been pinned on me as well._ Idly, he looked to the cowering staff. They were probably hoping for rescue, but the irony was they were safer without it. They wouldn't want the kind of rescue Chivalric Arms would bring.

"Dust is secured," a masked faunus said. "Shall we load it in the cars?"

"No. Lather it all over your bodies." Roman rolled his eyes. "What do you _think_ you should do?"

The faunus ignored him completely.

"Load it in the cars," Jaune said.

"Sir!"

"Oh sure, pretend you can't hear me. Not like I'm the master thief here." Scowling, Roman flicked his cigar to the floor and stamped on it, grinding the embers into ash. "You know, things were a lot easier before. Just me doing my thing. No crazy people showing up to steal the show for their ideological wars."

"You were captured by a fifteen-year-old."

"And no one to constantly remind me of that either! One time. One time and no one lets you forget it. And it wasn't the brat who did it – it was the stacked huntress two to three times her age."

"Who I took out. At half to a third her age."

Roman looked positively sulky, hunching up his shoulders and pushing out the dust shop with a grumble. The White Fang were already unloading their stolen stock into the boots of two used cars outside. They weren't unmarked, now were they tinted in the window or armed with weapons as one might have expected. They were everyday vehicles, one silver and the other in a deep shade of burgundy. Perfect for moulding into traffic and never being seen again.

They'd left him as the last inside.

Sighing, he turned to face the three behind the counter. They bunched tighter together and the youngest, who even then had to be at least twenty, started to cry. Jaune sighed a second time, running a cold hand down his stony face. The last two stores hadn't been much better. At least none of these had started to list out reasons why he shouldn't kill them.

Mors came up to point at them. The second burst out in tears.

"We're leaving," he told them. "Stay there and don't get in my way and you'll live to see morning. Call the police, try to stop me, or even annoy me once and I might decide you're easier to get along with dead. Am I understood?"

"Y-Yes!" the only one who wasn't in tears stammered. "P-Please, we won't move a muscle."

Fear. Terror. It worked where kindness didn't. Jaune wished it could be otherwise but talking with them just didn't work. It never did. He'd tried to reason with them – tried to explain that if they just kept quiet, they'd be fine. It just didn't work when no one would listen to you. Like the faunus in Atlas, they either refused to hear or refused to believe him. Like the faunus in Atlas, he'd fallen back on the only thing that did work – violence.

"Consider yourselves lucky," Jaune said, lowering his weapon. "This time."

It was only when he turned away that the last of them burst into tears, and that one was probably as much relief as fear. Ignoring the bile rising up his throat, Jaune pushed out into the rain and let the cold droplets against his face soothe him. Threatening people was the last thing he wanted to do, but it worked. It was the only thing that did. And in the end, wasn't it better? They got out safely and he didn't have to kill anyone. Why did he have to live in a world where threatening to murder people was the only viable option?

"Didn't kill anyone?" Roman quipped. "Sure you're not going soft?"

"The night is still young."

Roman flinched and looked away.

Jaune sighed. He'd meant it as a joke – he'd even thought it somewhat funny. Wasn't it obvious he wasn't going to kill his allies? Apparently not.

"Forget it. We're done, right?" He waited for the nod and turned to the White Fang. "Take the dust back to your stores. I'll be leaving with Roman. Someone inform Adam of our success tonight."

The White Fang rushed to obey.

/-/

The car stank of cigar smoke.

Jaune had cracked the window open a little, but even that wasn't enough to fully dispel Roman's constant puffing. Since they were mostly sticking to the speed limit and avoiding trouble, he couldn't open it all the way and hang bodily out like he wanted to. The poor little pine tree hanging from the mirror couldn't fight it off alone. Twisting and turning in the air, its fragrant scent was as downtrodden as the faunus.

"We did good work tonight," Roman remarked. He had both hands on the wheel and his eyes ahead. Traffic so late at night was light, but the heavy rain made it worse. The windscreen wipers were sweeping back and forth with a constant rubbing noise. "This isn't going to put us back on track, but it's a start."

"Us?"

"Me," Roman admitted. "I meant me. You're helping and I appreciate it, boss. I'm the one behind schedule. Slip of the tongue, I promise."

"You're behind on more than just dust," Jaune whispered. It didn't go unheard and the man beside him stiffened. It was honestly getting tiring, but what was he supposed to do? Roman was a thief and a criminal and, in some amazing way, that made him even less trustworthy than Blake had been. It hadn't stopped her betraying him and it wouldn't stop Roman doing the same if he thought he could get away with it.

Was it better to rule through fear or love? The answer was obvious – but how could he make any of these people love him? They were convinced he was a monster. Even if he tried his hardest to be kind and not hurt anyone, they just assumed he was biding his time. How did Adam handle it? Or did he really have to face it? Adam might have been hated by mankind, but his own allies knew him as a resourceful and serious commander. He ruled through respect.

_Not much chance of me getting love or respect from someone like Torchwick. I guess fear is all I have. As long as it gets my family out safe, I'll deal with it._ Roman would too. If he helped, he'd be spared. And in the end, wasn't that the reward he wanted?

The silence in the car was heavy. When Roman's scroll broke it, the man almost jumped out his seat.

"Damn!" he cursed, jerking on the wheel a little. "Scared the life out of me." Reaching forward, he tapped the screen. The scroll was set in a holder on the dash, allowing Roman to talk and drive. "Roman here."

"_Roman. It's me."_

"Junior! Just the man I've been waiting to hear from." Roman swallowed, eyes glancing to the killer next to him before saying, "Tell me you have good news, Junior. I've never needed it more than I do now."

"_I have a lead."_

Jaune's attention snapped to the scroll.

"You brilliant, wonderful, stallion of a man, you!" Roman laughed the laugh of a man granted a stay of execution. "I owe you, Junior. I owe you big time for this. Hit us – the kid's in the car as well. What do you have?"

"_I've been looking into logistics and haulage as I said. Officially, Chivalric Arms doesn't have any haulage companies tied to it operation in Vale. Officially again, that's because they don't have any operations in Vale. However,"_ Junior stressed the word, leaning into the scroll's lens. _"The train freight records on Mistral's end do indicate CA haulage taking something to the train. So, things weren't adding up."_

"Not for nothing, Junior, but I hope you have more for us than that. The kid rode the train in from Mistral. He _knows_ they had cargo on it."

"_Patience, Roman. Now, somewhere between Mistral and Vale the logs were changed. That's either someone working in Vale's freight or someone working on Mistral's end. Main clue came in when you told me how your friend broke into the train station and found evidence of CA's name on the system. Guess what?"_

"It's not there anymore?" Jaune said.

If Junior was surprised to hear his voice, he didn't let it show. _"Spot on. You found it because you got there before they had their mole wipe the records clean – it probably took them a little longer what with the police presence."_

"Again," Roman said nervously. "Interesting, but not entirely useful. Junior, I _really_ need you to have something a little more-"

"_I've located the haulage company they're using, or at least they one they `claim` they're using. And a time slot for pick-up."_

"I take it back. You're a genius, Junior. An absolute genius. When, who and where?"

"_The haulage is being split into two trips to lessen suspicion. One of those was shipped out yesterday so you've missed that one, but the second half is tonight. Now, even."_

Jaune's hand gripped the door. "Where?" he snapped.

"_If you head toward the trains you should run across them. It's Wokstar – yeah, the restaurant chain. Not sure if they're in cahoots with CA or just being used as cover, but I checked the records and there are no official Wokstar transports passing through Vale this week so it's probably just a disguise. Whatever is in there sure as hell isn't stir-fry vegetables."_

Roman twisted the wheel and took them down a side street, engine rumbling as they cut away from the main road. "Cheers, Junior. We'll get on that now. Throw the cost on my tab. You know I'm good for it."

"_Sure thing. I'm sending a picture of a Wokstar truck over. Help you spot it."_

The call ended, but Roman's scroll pinged again, and a picture of a typical lorry appeared. The livery on the sides was what mattered – a solid black with a beautiful image of a wok being tossed over an open fire, mushrooms and vegetables flying in the air above it. To the right of it read `Wokstar` in golden font with a stylised dragon roaring below it.

"I told you Junior would come through, kid. I told you."

There was more relief in Roman's voice than smugness. Jaune let it go. Results were results. "You did. Well done, Roman. How are we doing this?"

"We'll follow from a distance. The actual attack is all you - I don't know anything about these people. That vehicle must be going somewhere, though. We'll find it, follow it and decide what to do after." Another turn brought them onto a quiet road and Roman accelerated, tearing across the slick tarmac. "Nice and easy."

"Is it? Finding one vehicle in all of Vale can't be that simple."

"Easier than you think." Their car pulled up a long ramp and onto a suspended freeway cutting over the rooftops of the city. "If it's coming from downtown, it'll be up here somewhere – there!" He pointed with one hand suddenly. Jaune leaned forward, hands on the dash.

It was the golden dragon that gave it away. Junior had sent them a picture sideways on, but the back had the same dragon as the side did. The single truck was in the shoulder lane and driving sedately, all lights on and otherwise acting like any other lorry going about its business.

Jaune's fingers dug into the leather. He had to force himself to sit back. There wouldn't be one of his family in the back of that. It was haulage from the train. But where it was headed might have answers or even one of them.

Roman didn't need to be told what to do. He cut his speed and fell into traffic about two cars back. The rain was cutting down across Vale now, obscuring much of their vision. The taller red lights of the lorry provided something to follow, however.

They hummed along for a good fifteen minutes in silence. Roman didn't dare speak and Jaune was too busy staring at the red lights. What was the plan? It was his to make up. Adam handled it normally, but he didn't have that safety net anymore. Did he need it? He'd learned a lot and knew how to fight now. Or rather, he knew how to kill with his Semblance. The rest, he could fill in as he needed to.

The Wokstar lorry turned left and down a long ramp, coming off the freeway at last – and still well within the confines of the city. Their car followed at a distance. Jaune thought of telling Roman to cut the headlights before realising that would only make them look more suspicious. Or get them pulled over by the police. Instead, he bit his lip and watched the back of the lorry as it turned down onto an industrial compound.

It was a walled off compound with six individual warehouses and businesses inside. The kind of place where businesses would rent space from a much larger investment group. A placard outside named it `Matteson Industrial Complex` and it was apparently sponsored and funded by the Mistral International Business fund. A taller sign up the side of the entrance listed the six individual companies that rented lots within it, none of which were Chivalric Arms _or_ Wokstar.

Roman didn't enter. As the lorry was registered and allowed through, he took the car down the road and away, leaving Jaune to look back between the seats and out the rear window. It'd definitely gone in.

"Looks like this is the place," Roman said. "One of those six warehouses anyway. Now that we have an idea, we can have Junior look into-" He balked as the car door opened. "W-What are you doing!?"

"This is the place." Jaune already had one leg out. "We're going in."

"What? Now!?" Roman swore and fumbled his car door open, climbing out into the rain and gripping how bowler hat tight. His cigar was snuffed out almost instantly and his orange hair quickly became plastered to the sides of his face. "Are you for real?" he yelled over the car roof and the wind. "We should gather intel first. Plan this out. Get the White Fang to help."

"They already know I'm here. I'm not giving them more time. And the White Fang here is useless. You know that. We'll be more than enough."

Roman stared at him. He stared long and hard, gnashing his doused cigar around his mouth before spitting it on the ground and hefting his weapon. "Fucking hell!" he swore. "I can't believe this. I literally can't believe this! An' I've gotta come along, haven't I? Otherwise I'll have the White Fang and _her_ asking what happened to you. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "Are you done?"

"Done with you, maybe. Gah!" Roman removed his bowler hat and slicked his wet hair back. "Alright, fine. Let's get this show on the road. You better be as good as you say you are, kid, or we're going to be in real trouble here."

Well, maybe Roman would get to see. It wouldn't hurt for him to know just how dangerous a person he was dealing with. If nothing else, it would make Roman think twice about betraying him.

"That won't be a problem."

/-/

The soldier's body hit the ground.

"The fuck is wrong with you!?"

Jaune hummed, turning to see Roman watching him with obvious fear. "What?" Jaune asked, frowning. "They're armed soldiers attacking us in what I'm reliably told is a company that develops mobility scooters for the elderly. Unless that market is a lot more dangerous than I expected, this is the Chivalric Arms base we're looking for."

The rows of murderous robots lining the inside of the Wokstar lorry said as much too. Luckily, those were all switched off for transport, making their attack both a complete surprise and a well timed one. The soldiers hadn't seen them coming, though they'd certainly responded quick enough, opening fire.

"Not that, you psycho. You killed all of them…"

"Yes. And?" Jaune stepped over the dead body of one and further into the building. The gunshots had to have been heard. "They shot at us first, and didn't I tell you before that Chivalric Arms cleans the building? They killed every single person we spared in Mistral." The people here were already dead. Whether it was by him or Chivalric Arms, they wouldn't see the dawn. "You're a criminal, too."

"I'm not a murderer!" Roman gingerly made his way around the corpses. "I mean sure, a couple of people have died thanks to me – but I keep my body count low and more importantly, deniable. I've _one innocent woman_ to my name and she died of a heart attack in a stand-up. Even then, I tried to save her. Only ones I've willingly killed are worse scum that deserved it."

Jaune nodded distractedly. "Same."

"Same!? This is _not_ the same, kid. Holy shit! They were – Hell, we don't know _what_ they were. They could have just been following orders."

"Does that really matter?"

Jaune stooped and rummaged in the vest of one. Roman balked, but it wasn't like he was sticking his hands in blood. The man died from several shots to the stomach and one that caught his head. His chest area was fine. Sure enough, he found the ID he was looking for in the breast pocket, stood and held it to the electronically locked door. The light flashed green and it pinged open. He moved ahead with Mors held out before him, eyes scanning every corner.

Really, what did Roman want from him? What was he supposed to do when people opened fire? Take it? Holster his gun and fight in melee? Blake could do that, but he couldn't. Maybe if Blake were still here, she could have saved those people's lives. He couldn't. And he wasn't sure he really cared to risk his and his family's life to make the effort.

These people knew they were running an illegal operation. It was a little hard to claim innocence when you were literally shipping killer robots out the back of a mobility scooter business. Even if they didn't know or agree with the depths of what Chivalric Arms did, they weren't `innocent people just doing their job` like Roman thought.

_And Chivalric Arms will wash their hands of them soon enough. _

If they were all going to die anyway, what does it matter if he was the one to do it?

"Just keep up," he ordered. "This place is a lot smaller than what I'm used to. I guess they can't dig underground bases in the middle of the city."

"Y-Yeah." Roman continued to duck around the fallen bodies with a squeamish expression. "Not unless they want to burst water pipes or dig right into the sewers. You know, people aren't going to take this well even if they're doing some shady shit. You're going to come out of this looking like a psycho."

"Isn't that how everyone sees me already?"

"Just saying, you're not helping your case. Stuff like this sells it."

That was fine. There was no case. Atlas had decided it was closed, cut and dry long ago. He was the villain; Chivalric Arms weren't involved; his family were expendable. If Vale wanted to stick their heads in the sand and believe the same thing without listening to his side of the story, so be it. He'd done his best not to hurt any innocent people since arriving, but it didn't seem to matter to anyone.

The interior of the warehouse was much more rough and ready than the custom-built facilities in Atlas and Mistral. They were lacking the usual white metal walls and long corridors, replaced instead by cubicles and tall metal partitions that reached up toward the ceiling. The security on the doors was suspicious high spec, and the fact the alarm hadn't gone off was even more so because it made it clear Chivalric Arms didn't want the police responding.

They had something to hide – and that had Jaune's blood pumping.

The next door opened into a shotgun. The blast struck him in the chest and knocked him back, buckshot exploding over his chest and spiking up into his neck. Roman yelled something, but Jaune didn't hear, catching himself on the doorframe and shooting once inside. In the time between firing, the man cocked the shotgun again. Null remained dormant, but the soldier hadn't expected that and dove to the side, fully believing the shot would be fatal. The second blast from the shotgun impacted his left side and the wall together.

Growling, Jaune pushed through – again ignoring Roman yelling about something or another. He charged the soldier down, smacking the barrel away as it discharged a third time. The kick almost knocked him off balance. The soldier took advantage of that, slamming the shotgun up into his chin and trying to work the barrel around again. Jaune still had hold of it, however, and they tussled briefly before the soldier dropped it, drew a knife, and stabbed at Jaune's eye. Closing it and twisting away, he still gasped at the horrible sensation of a blade grating over his temple and ear.

Snapping Mors into the man's stomach, his eyes flickered gold, purple and blue. The soldier's eyes widened a moment before the trigger was pulled three times, less shooting and more _injecting_ the bullets directly up and into the soldier's gut. He toppled with a muted cry, clutching his stomach in a vain effort to stop the blood pumping out of him. Jaune aimed the gun higher and planted one in his head. A small mercy.

"Fuck!" Roman swore again. "Will you stop murdering literally everyone we meet!?"

"I'm not-" Jaune saw the man in the lab coat run for a weapons cabinet. "Freeze!" he called out, aiming at his back. "Answer my questions and I'll spare you." Panicking and hyperventilating, the scientist ignored him and kept going, almost crashing into the metal cabinet, and hauling it open. "Don't!" Jaune ordered. "I _will_ kill you."

"I'd do as he says, friend," Roman called out quickly. "He's got an itchy trigger finger. Put the gun down an-"

"Ah!" The scientist turned with wide eyes and a revolver. "You-"

His chest exploded, coating the open weapons locker behind him with blood and gore. Shakily, the scientist looked down at the ruined mess of his torso before dropping the gun and then dropping himself with a wet thump.

Roman took one look at him, brought his shaking hands up to his head and then started to swear repeatedly. A cigar came out, lighter flickering weakly as he tried to get it lit, swearing even louder when he couldn't. The lighter's tiny _click-click_ soon filled the room as he struggled to get a flame going.

_Not even Blake was this bad. He's surprisingly useless outside providing a safehouse._ At least he did that alright, and really, what he needed most was someone who knew Vale and the people here. Roman did what he asked of him.

Ignoring his panicking `ally`, Jaune checked the next room along and found several computers switched on. There was no one inside, however. The whole place was relatively quiet. Given that they were masquerading as a legitimate company, it made sense they might keep their operations to daytime hours. It'd draw attention otherwise.

"Guess we lucked out," he said more to himself than Roman, sitting at one of the online computers and flicking through it. "This place is nowhere near as well protected as their last facilities were. I guess it's harder to get as many armed soldiers into Vale, not to mention the robots."

The fact they were shipping them in now suggested they were worried about him. They were beefing up their security in expectation of his attack. While it was satisfying to know they were afraid, it didn't help all that much. It might even put his family in danger.

"Roman," he yelled. "Will you get in here and help out?"

"With what? You're doing a fine job _icing_ everyone we see. What do you even need me for?""

"Excuse me for not politely asking the people shooting me if they'd like to surrender."

"You don't even get it, do you?" Roman stalked into the room with his cigar finally lit and his hat nowhere to be seen. His har was ruffled and sticking up like he'd run his hands through it one too many times. "I'm not bothered by you killing them in self-defence. It's the fucking look on your face while you do it!"

Jaune's fingers stopped on the keyboard. "What look? I don't enjoy this."

"No. But you don't dislike it either. You look like Junior when he's mopping down the bar – like you're just going through the motions and can't be arsed either way. Like it's just a thing you do, like taking a leak or drawing breath." Roman took a seat nearby, setting his weapon down on the desk as he started to chip in. "It's fucking terrifying if I can be honest with you. _You're terrifying_."

He wasn't. Roman only said that because he was seeing the bad side of things, but it wasn't like he went out his way to make anyone suffer. _I'm doing this to save my family too. That has to count for something._ Probably not in Roman's books. The guy looked like he'd sell his own brother out if it made him some money. _I'm not the problem. Chivalric Arms is. If they didn't do this, I'd not have to become like I am now._

It was their fault. Not his. He was… He was just doing what he had to. No one called a father stealing to buy medicine for his sick daughter evil. How was this any different? Jaune closed his eyes and fought the pounding headache. It was the same thing.

He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it.

"Think I've found something." Never had he been so relieved for Roman's voice. Pushing his chair back, he came over to hover behind him and stare at the screen. "Something weird here – get this. Development of an Anti-Null weapon." He laughed. "What the hell is Null?"

"I am. I'm Null."

Roman's laughter died off with a squeak. "A-Alright then. Fuck me, I suppose."

"It's fine. Keep reading."

"Right. Development of the Anti-Null weapon continuing at Site 3 after retreat from Atlas Site Alpha following containment breach of Null and attack by White Fang. Successful landing outside Vale and infiltration into the city to Site 3 has seen work continue at an acceptable pace."

_It's not one of my family then? There must have been another test subject kept there. _By the sounds of it, it was a safety net designed to deal with him. Maybe a way to keep him in control or kill him if he ever got out of hand. Something to do with aura or Semblance manipulation? It couldn't be another aura nullifier like himself, but if there was someone who could become immune to Semblances – including Null – then that could work.

Either way, it obviously hadn't been up and running or they wouldn't have felt the need to flee with it on the Bullheads with his family. Jaune's fingers dug into the back of Roman's seat. Frustration ripped through him at the thought of coming this far and not even finding one of his sisters, but he kept quiet, allowing Roman to read.

"Operational Notes: Weapon capable of isolating and taking advantage of Null's self-inflicted vulnerability to incapacitate or kill. Note: though Weapon viable countermeasure to Null, weapon's handling is still an issue. It is the suggestion of Dr Matte to heighten electrotherapy – if Null is coming to Vale as expected, the weapon must be operational in time. Safeties and limiters on electrical charges can and should be ignored. Addendum: Dr Matte's employment terminated after causing traumatic brain injury to Anti-Null weapon. Jnr Dr Meadows promoted to Snr Doctor."

Roman scrolled down a little before he continued. "Note from Snr Dr Meadows: Though the weapon has been permanently damaged by former Dr Matte's ill practice, its motor functions and viability is still well within acceptable bounds. Up until now, we have been utilising one of the Subjects, who appears to have a calming effect on the weapon. However, long-term attachment is ill-advised. We shall be moving onto drug-based conditioning soon…" Roman stopped. "It cuts off there. That's it."

"That must have been Doctor Meadows in the other room," Jaune said. "No wonder he went for a gun. He probably knew he was dead either way. Might even have been to kill himself." The last doctor had been terminated from employment, which he had a suspicion was a lot more final than it sounded. "That would make this Site 3."

"Which means this `weapon` is here." Roman stood. "Well, that's none of our business, right?"

"It is if it can be used against me."

"I had a feeling you'd say that. Fuck me…"

"Do I need to buy a swear jar for you?"

The thief glared back. "Do I need to buy you a murder jar?"

The distant thrumming of an engine in the sky had them both looking up toward the ceiling. The noise was unmistakable; there was a bullhead approaching. Given that the warehouse had no alarm system and there really shouldn't be anyone else in the area to call the police, it likely wasn't them. Even if someone did hear the gunshots, the police would come in with cars and sirens.

"Beacon?" Roman asked hopefully. "Is that Beacon?"

"Somehow, I doubt it. Chivalric Arms must have sent their clean-up crews early this time." Jaune slipped fresh rounds into Mors and cocked it. "I think we should find this Anti-Null weapon and quickly."

"There any way we're getting out of this without causing a bloodbath?" Roman asked hopefully.

Jaune stared right at him.

"Yeah." Roman swallowed. "I thought not…"

* * *

**Just want to address some small thing. It's intentional, but I've had people note it before and wanted to explain it because some people seemed to think it was an accident on my part. In the show, Roman is a dapper and refined type thief who is obviously very smarmy and very much in control of himself. Therefore to have him cuss and swear as much as he does here must seem out of character for him. I agree. I think he's the type to always try and look calm if nothing else then for his own ego. **

**His constant swearing in this is on purpose. You'll note, I hope, that Roman only loses control and cusses like a sailor when around Jaune and in tight situations. It's meant as a way to show how badly Roman is rattled by Jaune's actions and mannerisms. Up until the point of Jaune saying they're going in to a gunfight, Roman sticks to "crap" and "hell" at most, then loses it when he starts seeing all the death. It's intended to show that Roman is being taken outside his comfort zone and is, as a result, swearing uncharacteristically. That, quite simply, Roman is _terrified_ of Jaune. Maybe even more afraid of him than Cinder, because at least Cinder comes across as a reasonable nutcase. **

**It's not me writing it to "be cool" as some people have said – not even sure how that works. I'm 32, not 10. Swearing hasn't been "cool" since primary school. It's used as a tool to show that a character is stressed beyond their normal mannerisms.**

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**Next Chapter: 13****th**** July**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	23. Chapter 23

**Please ignore the troll as usual – I'm told he's now accusing people on their stories of making fun of the loss of my dog, which is rather pathetic. It's a shame how low some people will stoop, but it doesn't bother me and it shouldn't bother you. As always, I would never leave a guest review on someone's story. I don't even read RWBY fics since I write them most days anyway. Even if I like the show and the fics created from it, it'd be a bit much to write for several hours then go read the same material for hours more every day. **

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 23**

* * *

Jaune dragged one of the tables up against the door, adding it to the other pieces of furniture he'd been hunching up against it. There was a second door out – he was afraid to block both in case they resorted to gas again. It led deeper into the warehouse, likely in the direction they wanted to go. That wasn't a hard guess given they hadn't moved too deep into it in the first place.

The door slammed inward and hit one of the metal lockers. It bounced back with a grunt from the other side, before banging in again. They were trying to break through. Cocking Mors, he activated his Semblance briefly and fired three shots into it. Though metal, the door was still relatively thin, allowing the bullets to punch through. There were no sounds from the other side. They must have backed off.

"How's it going, Roman?"

"I'm looking – I'm looking." Roman's fingers flew over the keyboard as he hunched up at the terminal. "Come on. Come on. Damn it! It's more reports than instructions. And it just refers to this thing as the weapon. I'm not getting any details." Pushing back, the thief ran a hand through his hair, eyed the barricaded door and paled at the noise beyond it. Chivalric Arms were bringing something up to break through. Possibly explosives. "I say we wing it. This place can't be that big."

It was big enough, but he'd struggled against Chivalric Arms' soldiers before. He doubted Roman would be as strong as Adam and Blake had been. "Alright. Let's go." Moving quickly over to the back door, he let Roman through and then stepped past himself. The other side was a wider corridor separated by numerous partitions. Spying a large vending machine, Jaune tipped it over by the door. "Might slow them down if they have to blow through both."

"Who are these guys?" Roman asked. "I get it's CA, but what are we looking at? Private huntsmen?"

"Soldiers." Jaune looked both ways and picked one, mobbing quickly ahead with Roman following. "Not your everyday variety, though. These ones were able to go toe to toe with Adam Taurus for a while. They might not be as good as huntsmen, but they have better teamwork and they're well-equipped."

"Sounds lovely."

The corridor thinned to a single door that opened out into what appeared to be a fitness room. Two treadmills stood to the left, along with some weight machines and a medical bed left unattended. There were two desks by the far wall with chairs behind, along with a whiteboard covered in notes and scribbled words. Chemical compounds, he assumed, if only because they had ridiculously long names he'd never heard of before.

The one thing he did recognise was a chart detailing bpm or beats per minute. The numbers kept getting lower and lower, and while he had no idea over what kind of strain that was, the decrease from one-eighty to sixty-seven was drastic. They wouldn't have put so much effort into tracking their own fitness. Something, or someone, was being put through intense training courses here. If those other words were in fact chemicals, then the fact they were here probably meant they were a cocktail of performance enhancing drugs.

A loud _whoomph_ from behind had Jaune and Roman turning. It was a surprisingly muted sound for what he assumed it was. Roman confirmed it a second later. "Breaching charge. Might want to speed this up, boss."

"I think the weapon was being trained here."

Roman sighed dramatically. "Maybe? I dunno. Kind of not my biggest concern right now."

"It should be," Jaune said. He started to barricade the door and Roman came over to help, dragging another table in front of it. If they had to breach every door this way, it'd buy them more time than leaving then open. "If they're this determined to rescue this thing, then it's because it's useful against me. And I don't know if you've realised, but you're with me. Do _you_ want to let them keep hold of a weapon like that?"

"What I want hardly matters now, does it?"

Not really. Even if he cut Roman loose, the man would be hunted down by CA now. They might think he had information they could get out of him or it might just be to silence what he now knew about CA themselves. Either way, Roman was involved the second he accepted his offer in the police cell. Pushing the table into place, Jaune cocked his head as another muffled blast echoed in the distance. Second door down.

"Whatever they have here, they'd probably keep close to this place. You don't want a long distance between testing room and cell."

It might be the way they'd come, in which case they'd lost the chance, but they'd have to take that chance. Jaune rushed over to the back door and out. Sadly, there was nothing to block it. He left it ajar in the hopes it might spook them for even half a minute. Roman was already running to the next door, wrenching it open and hopping through with little regard for potential ambush. Jaune raced after and dashed through, colliding with Roman's back, and knocking them both to the floor.

"What's the deal?" he demanded. "Why did you stoooo-?"

That was a big robot.

Judging its height was impossible with it laid down, but its _foot_ was bigger than he was. Jaune's stomach dropped out for all of the few seconds it took for him to realise it was unmanned. _Not an autonomous combat droid. Lucky! I'm not sure what we could have done if it was._ The thing had to be at least ten metres tall, maybe more, and looked to have armour thicker than he was. Its body bristled with weaponry that could not only kill a man, but probably put holes in armoured vehicles.

"The fuck is that!?" Roman yelled. "Have I walked into a sci-fi movie here?"

"Looks like a vehicle. I don't think it's an AI."

"Yeah, but – look at the thing. This isn't your run of the mill peace-keeping model like they're debuting in Atlas. This is a weapon!"

"Well, Chivalric Arms _is_ an arms manufacturer. Is it a big surprise they'd have stuff like this?"

"In Atlas!" he stressed. "Not hidden in the capital city of your biggest ally. You got any idea how much of a shitshow it would cause if Vale found out about this? Diplomatic incident doesn't even begin to describe it. And why have it here? Are they planning to invade the city?" Roman paused and cursed. "Is _this_ the weapon they're using against you? I mean, it'd work, right? Not sure how you could fight this. Talk about overkill."

It would work. Really well, in fact. The amount of armour might as well be an invincible forcefield for his weaponry, and no amount of aura-cancelling Semblance would let him get through to the pilot. Chivalric Arms already knew he struggled with automated droids, so this might as well be the next best thing.

But… it didn't fit.

"The report mentioned electrotherapy and brain trauma. Unless this thing has a brain, I doubt it's what we're looking for." After a moment's thought he added, "Though it could be a _second_ weapon. I mean, it'd work against me, but I'm not sure how they thought to use it in the middle of Vale."

"You and me both. Not exactly inconspicuous. You think they were training whoever they have to use this?"

"Maybe." It would do the job. "But I'm not sure why. Even a regular pilot in this could do a lot of damage."

"Heads up…" Roman took his shoulder and turned him around, pointing with his other hand. Up until now, the walls had all been partitions and relatively thin. While they couldn't have broken through any, a good hit with a hammer would probably have punched a hole through. It was the kind of construction you'd expect of a civilian building.

The rectangular metal box was not. On second glance, it was more an oblong – rounded corners and no sharp edges like a pod. Longer than it was tall and wide, with what looked to be an airlock system on the front. One metal door with a window leading to another metal door inside. It looked like the kind of underground bunker you could buy, dig a hole, and put this thing into. The metal walls weren't going to buckle under anything less than high explosives. It was propped in the corner almost unobtrusively. The only reason he'd missed it was because the giant robot was laid out in the centre of the room.

Before he could think, and long before Roman could ask what to do, he'd raced over and clapped his hands on the first door, turning the wheel to open it like a sealed door on some ocean vessel. The door opened easily, well-oiled and still relatively new. It swung open without much of a sound. Ducking in, and not even thinking about what he'd do if Roman sealed the door behind him, Jaune pressed his face up against the glass of the inner door.

Only to feel his stomach sink.

He'd hoped. Even with the documents and the notes and the constant mention of a weapon, he'd hoped that this might be one of his sisters. It wasn't. The woman inside was small enough to be one of them, but everything else was wrong. Instead of golden blonde hair, she had a strange match of pink and brown. Her skin was too pale – and he could see a lot of it given she was completely naked. The girl sat on a bench with her knees together, hands cupped in her lap and head down.

"Anyone important?" Roman asked. He peeked over Jaune's shoulder and made an unhappy sound. "Eugh. Is that a naked child in there? Okay, these people are getting creepier and creepier by the second."

"You know they experimented on me, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have to see your junk."

"Your priorities are messed up."

Roman looked at him like he'd gone mad. "I don't want to hear that from _you_ of all people!"

"Whatever." Jaune sighed and pulled back from the window. "This must be their weapon."

"I hope so. Or they're kidnapping children for other uses that I really don't want to know about. We opening the door or what? Might not be a great idea if she really is meant to be used against you. We've got enough problems as it is."

He had a point there. They already had a team of soldiers after them and adding a new threat might not be the best choice. Even if her being locked away like this implied she wasn't loyal to them, that didn't mean she wasn't insane or likely to attack anyone and everyone. If she attacked them, they might be distracted long enough for Chivalric Arms to bring them down.

The best thing to do would be to leave her.

Just like the best thing for Adam would have been to leave him trapped in that hellhole. Adam hadn't, though. Adam saved him.

_I'm not leaving anyone else to go through the nightmare I did!_

Jaune's hands gripped the wheel and turned, grinding the lock open. As the door swung inward, the girl looked up slowly, tilting her head as mismatched eyes took them in with curiosity as naked as she was. Stood in the doorway, Jaune suddenly had no idea what to say or do.

"Well?" Roman prompted. "You going to do something?"

As if to emphasise his point another blast echoed behind – this time much closer. Jaune winced and stepped forward. "Hello." His eyes dipped to the girl's chest, but he pulled them up. Her eyes were striking, staring right into his. "We're not your enemies. Can you tell me your name?"

The girl stared at him unblinkingly. Literally without blinking. There wasn't any movement to her at all – not even the rise of breath. Uncertainly, Jaune let his Semblance fall into place. If she _was_ a threat to him, it was best her Semblance be turned off.

Glass shattered before him and the girl vanished.

"Wha-?"

Something struck him in the small of his back and Jaune lurched forward, crashing face first into the now empty bench with a startled cry. He just had the time to turn his Semblance off and bring aura forward when he hit, and it saved him cracking his teeth on metal. Rolling over, he stared back at the nothingness behind him.

"Invisible!" Roman yelled, flailing his cudgel before him. "It's an invisibility Semblance!"

It wasn't.

The girl had been there for a moment, so it had to be illusions. Was that his counter-? Something soft touched the floor to his left and Jaune activated Null, causing glass to shatter and the naked girl to appear once more as a food rushed in for his face. He got his hands up in time to block it, only to gasp as pain ratchetted through his bones. No aura while he had his Semblance up. He was vulnerable.

The girl knew it too, flipping agilely in the air and kicking once for his face. Jaune managed to catch it, but in return she twisted and slammed her heel into his arm. He _felt_ bone creak a fraction of a second before he let his aura return, cancelling Null. It saved his arm from breaking, but suddenly she was out his grip and there were three versions of her charging in from front, left and right.

It had to be the one in front. He'd felt her pull away in that direction. Slashing forward, he tried to hit her with the butt of Mors, only to curse as the girl shattered into glass. His eyes flicked left but that one's leg broke on hitting him. It was the right – from the bench – that struck hardest, sending him spinning across the room and into the back wall with a metallic clang.

_I can't fight her without using Null or she'll keep hiding herself. If I use it, though, she's the better fighter. _Where he'd been kept and used in tests just to try and manufacture his Semblance, she'd been trained and put through tests to make her the best killer possible.

It showed.

_She'll still die to a single shot if I can get her._

Breathing heavily, his eyes flooded with myriad hues of gold and teal, banishing her illusions and causing the naked girl to appear once more. Close to Roman this time, she must have been trying for one of his weapons. The thief hopped back nervously, and the girl changed tack, rushing back in for Jaune again.

This time, he let her hit. Skilled or not, she was unarmed, and he could handle the pain – at least he assumed so. His hasty swing with the blade of Mors sailed above her head as she ducked, pulled the splits, and then swept her feet against his with both hands on the floor. Knocking him off his feet and onto his back, she acrobatically flipped up and onto him, one hand stabbed down on his wrist to keep Mors away and the other gripping his throat tight.

Null remained active as Jaune's breath was stolen away.

The girl had him, but he wasn't the only person here.

Roman rushed forward and struck – tossing his coat over the girl's body…?

It was such a random move that she paused. Jaune did too, though mostly because he was unsure if he shouldn't shoot Roman instead. "Not for nothing," the thief said, "But if I'm going to have to watch psycho on psycho combat, I'd rather do it without your bare ass mooning me the whole way." Eyes awkwardly glancing to the side, he drew and lit a cigar. "Though, to be honest, we're all of us fucked if you two are going to get kinky. Chivalric Arms are on their way and I don't think they're coming to provide condoms."

The hand around Jaune's throat remained in place and kept him pinned down, but the girl wasn't squeezing the life out of him anymore. It was more of a `stay there` gesture, keeping him down with his gun flat to the ground as she peered at Roman, and then down at Jaune, tilting her head to one side, causing pink hair to spill onto his chin.

"I dunno about you," Roman said, "But I'd rather get out of this shithole. The whole fight to the death thing can wait til after, right?" Her eyes peered down into his. The girl nodded but didn't release him. "Think that's your cue, boss. You can wait, right?"

"Y-Yes. I don't even want to fight you…"

Pink and brown eyes narrowed. There was no trust there, no belief, but she swung one creamy leg off his side and tugged Roman's white coat around her, slipping her arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up. It was long – or she was short – and the tail dragged along the floor behind her as she padded barefoot to the door and stepped out.

Roman offered him a hand and pulled him up. "I think that went about as well as it could."

"Couldn't you have just shot her?" Jaune griped.

"In an enclosed metal chamber with her aura up?"

It wasn't – gah. He should have really told Roman by now how his Semblance worked, but there was always the risk, a very real risk, that giving him the knowledge would have Roman thinking up ways around it. He couldn't trust him enough for it. "Never mind. Let's get out of this before she decides to close the door and lock us in."

Luckily, she hadn't, though by the time they were out the girl was missing. That didn't mean much with her Semblance, but he wouldn't be too upset if she'd made a run for it. As long as Chivalric Arms didn't have her and couldn't use her against him.

_Her in combination with those soldier teams would be the death of me. I couldn't beat her in melee, and the second I use my Semblance to counter hers, they fill me full of holes._ It would have been even more one-sided if she had a gun. Unlike with other people, she could tell when he was using Null. The very instant her illusion shattered, all she had to do was shoot him and it was all over. _I guess even a Semblance like mine has counters. At least I found her now and not later._

"You think she's still around?" Roman asked nervously.

"Doesn't matter." Jaune said it loudly. Might as well address her too. "We're only looking for my mom or my sister-" The air before him shivered and she was suddenly there. Jaune tensed and gripped Mors tight, but the girl didn't make a threatening gesture. Instead, she stood right inside his guard and peered up at him, tilting her face to one side as if considering something. "H-Hello…?"

"Pssst. I think she likes you."

Jaune would have snapped something back but was left frozen as a hand came up to cup his chin. What might have been a close gesture turned a little more awkward as she gripped his chin and tilted his face one way and the other, peering at him intently.

"Looks like she recognises you," Roman said. "You two ever meet before in some testing lab exchange program?"

"No. The only people I ever saw were my mom and sisters. Before they were taken away…"

Her hand tightened. Urgently, she tapped his cheek with her other hand. Not slapping him, but an insistent poking like she was trying to tell him something. Impatiently, she bounced up and down before him. Roman's coat remained thankfully over her body.

"I'm guessing she doesn't talk," Roman said. "Probably that brain trauma the reports mentioned. Is that right?" The girl looked to Roman and nodded quickly, then poked Jaune's face again, touching his nose, chin and lips.

Irritated, he pulled away. "We don't have time for this. CA are literally on their way."

"He looks familiar to you?" Roman asked the girl.

Giving up on him entirely, she turned to Roman and nodded quickly, pointing to Jaune and then to the cell they'd taken her from. It all meant nothing to him, but Roman was either an expert at dealing with mute people or just more on the ball.

"You know someone who looked like him."

Jaune's entire body went still. There were _multiple Bullheads_ sent from Atlas, only one of which contained this girl. "You know someone from my family!?"

The girl nodded quickly, now smiling.

"Who!?" Mute. Right. "A sister? My mom? Um. Saphron. Amber. Juniper-" The girl bounced on her heels, pointing both hands at him. "Juniper Arc!?" Another hurried nod. His voice was strained. "Y-You know my mom…?" Smiling brightly, the girl nodded and pointed back to the cell, jerking her hand at it twice. "Mom was in there?" A frown and a wave of the hand. "Mom was kept here? In this place?"

Nodding, then a mime of someone giving someone else a hug.

"Mom looked after you…?" The girl nodded and Jaune's heart leapt into his throat. "Is she here now!?" he demanded, voice cracking. He reached for her, but the girl danced back, too cautious. She shook her head quickly in the negative. All his hope came crashing down like a tower of bricks, dousing him in bitterly cold water. Heart aching so hard he thought he might have a heart attack, he asked, "D-Did she die…?"

Her hands formed a cross and she shook her head. She pointed to the cell, mimed looking through the window and then made a motion like she was gripping a steering wheel. Then, she pointed to a large door beyond.

"They moved her out of the facility."

The girl nodded and held up two fingers in what he assumed meant it happened two days ago. Chivalric Arms knew he was in the area – they must have moved Juniper the very second he hit the team at the train station, relocating her off-site, maybe even out of the Kingdom. Given that he and the White Fang had taken down bases in Atlas and Mistral now, it made sense they'd retreat their test subjects the moment they showed up.

So close, and yet so far.

_Damn it. If only I'd found out about this place right away, I'd have mom out._

"Two days isn't long," Roman pointed out. "Chances are she's still in the city."

Jaune took a deep breath and nodded. That it was Roman of all people to cheer him up. Heh. "You're right. Thank you, Roman. And you, uh..." He wouldn't call her weapon or subject. "Thanks for keeping my mother company." The girl smiled back. "Was she okay? No, well, I know she wouldn't be after what happened, but was she at least healthy? They didn't hurt-"

Footsteps echoed outside the room they were in. Too many to go unnoticed. Three heads shot in that direction, Roman cursing as the girl's eyes narrowed. "Wasted too much time," Roman said. "Yo boss, is there any point us staying now? We know your family isn't here. Might as well make a run for it, right?"

"Yes." Asking about mom could wait. "We should get out of here."

The girl stopped them by holding onto Jaune's sleeves. Motioning for silence with her other hand, she pointed upward. It only took a second for them to hear the aircraft pass by, its engines roaring. Even getting out the warehouse would be a challenge with those out there. They were but one warehouse among a few others set within a walled compound. They'd have to pass out into the open at some point.

"Vale can't play dumb to aircraft in its space for long," Roman added. "Even if they're trying their best to lay low, police will come along sooner or later. Or Beacon. That's not necessarily a rescue, though..."

"Can your illusions work over all of us?" Jaune asked.

The girl shook her head but didn't drop the smile. In fact, it grew even bigger.

/-/

"_Unidentified aircraft, you are operating within Vale airspace. Please respond. Unidentified aircraft-"_

The co-pilot in full black reached up to flick the radio off, signalling to the pilot. The Bullhead pulled left, flanked by two others that spread out further, surrounding the facility. Spotlights beamed down on the entrances, one of which Teams Zulu and X-Ray had entered eleven minutes prior.

"Vale air control is continuing to hail," the pilot spoke into his helmet. "Threatening to send armed aircraft."

The reply came back over the radio and to every pilot and co-pilot. _"Maintain current operation."_

"Understood. What are our orders should Vale interfere?"

"_The White Fang, Subject 000 and criminal elements have joined forces in Vale. Anything that happens here will be attributed to them." _The cultured voice contained just a little hint of amusement._ "The retrieval of Subject 000 takes priority. Destruction of evidence is considered secondary. All else is of no concern."_

"Understood, sir." The pilot signalled to his co-pilot "Weapons readied."

"We're opening fire on law enforcement?"

"No." The pilot looked ahead. "Null is."

The co-pilot remained silent, flicking the stick up and giving it a shake. On the screen before him, the camera attached to the underslung canons wiggled left and right. With the test over, he angled it at the streets outside, scanning the roads for any vehicles that might come close.

"_Raptor 1, this is Raptor 2. We have confirmed gunshots in the building. I repeat, confirmed gunshots."_

"Raptor 1 rogers. Zulu and X-Ray must have made contact."

"_Neither team is responding to hails, sir."_

"Maintain perimeter. Raptors 2 through 4, cover the corners. Once the teams are out, we're bringing the building down. No evide-"

The wall of the warehouse exploded outward, metal girders and solid concrete spraying outward and into the air. The pilot cursed and pulled back, causing the Bullhead to lurch out the way of the debris and the smoke. The aircraft was till buffeted by the blast, send skimming along the roof of another building before the pilot could get it under control.

"All units, Raptor 1 has no visual! What's happening?"

"_Raptor 2 here, sir. Exterior west-facing wall has exploded. There's something within the smoke, sir, it-"_ The horrendous blast that sounded through their earpieces had the co-pilot ripping off his helmet. Even if it lasted not even a second, the volume was deafening.

"What's happening!?" the pilot shouted. "Raptor 3, report."

"_Raptor 2 is down, sir,"_ the next Bullhead reported. _"Shots from the smoke, sir. Some kind of anti-air cannon. Smoke is clearing. It – oh fuck! Evasive manoeuvres!"_

A loud buzzing lit up the air before a stream of yellow tracer fire scythed up from the smoke, barely missing the Bullhead that tilted and all but flung itself to the side. The sound was akin to a chainsaw but revved up to an impossibly high volume.

"Open fire!"

"Firing!" the co-pilot pushed the trigger and their underslung canons boomed once, twice and a third time. On the camera, he saw the shots pierce into the smoke and strike _something_, exploding in vivid blasts of dust. The force of it washed the smoke away, revealing an inhumanly large and bulky figure illuminated by yellow flame.

"_They have the Paladin!"_ Raptor 3 shrieked.

It was the last thing he ever said. The giant bipedal robot stamped one foot back and turned, angling its carapace upward and opening fire with shoulder-mounted machine guns. The calibre was more than enough to pierce through the relatively thin armour of the Bullhead, rinsing the cockpit, pushing it down through sheer force of fire and detonating once they struck the ammo stores. Raptor 3 went down a ball of fire, crashing onto a main road in a burning hulk of slag and steel.

Without stopping to hesitate, the Paladin angled its canon back into the hole it had made in the facility wall, firing three times. Huge blasts rent the interior; billowing flame poured outward. _That's Team Zulu and X-Ray fucked,_ the co-pilot thought hysterically.

"Raptor 4," the pilot yelled. "Priority orders. Destroy the warehouse. I repeat, destroy the warehouse!"

"_R-Roger that, Raptor 1. Missiles away."_

Two trails of smoke pooled out from the rockets fired from Raptor 4, echoed quickly by the _thwoosh_ of their own being launched down toward the roof of the building. The Paladin twisted to follow them, red beams of laser light reaching out to track the trajectory but, with the automated systems informing it that it wasn't the target, the anti-missile systems didn't operate. The salvo struck the building instead, their own punching through the roof while Raptor 4's slammed in through the side and delved deeper, detonating within the building.

Their canons added to the barrage, booming away as the two aircraft poured fire into the building until the roof crackled and dipped inward, supports crashing down under an assault it wasn't designed to withstand.

"Command," the pilot reported glumly. "Building is destroyed. Requesting orders." Silence. The co-pilot leaned his head back, unsurprised. "Command? Requesting orders." He waited and then cursed. "Fuckers. We've been cut loose. You catch that Raptor 4?"

"_We caught it, sir. For what it's worth, it's been an honour."_

"It's been shit is what it's been."

"_Ha. That too."_

The Paladin hadn't remained still while they totalled the building. Raptor 4 went down in a blaze of gunfire, detonating in the air, and it turned its guns on the vehicles outside that were trying to squeal away, the transports for Teams X-Ray and Zulu. Those didn't stand a chance and were ripped to shreds by canon fire capable of piercing the side of a tank. To the co-pilot's surprise, the Paladin didn't turn on them. Content with its destruction, it slammed its feet down and wheeled away, screeching down the road.

"Sir?" he called. "Do we follow?"

The pilot sighed, head in his hands. "Put your helmet on, lieutenant."

Nervously, the co-pilot did as he was asked, picking up the helmet he'd discarded and placing it back over his head. Along with the visor that covered his eyes, the radio built into the helmet played their latest radio briefing.

"_This is General James Ironwood of the Atlas military. You are within the sight of a Class-9 Anti-Battleship canon. I would advise you remain very still. You are under arrest for unauthorised military operations in a neighbouring Kingdom. You will be brought in for questioning, where a military tribunal shall decide your fate."_

The co-pilot looked up, eyes widening. They hadn't noticed in the dark, the moment when the light from the moon was blocked out. The pride of Atlas' navy - Ironwood's flagship, _The Vanguard_, hovered over the city of Vale. Already small white aircraft were spilling out of its hangers, some towards them and others in pursuit of the stolen Paladin.

"W-What do we do…?" he whispered. "We're fucked. We… We're absolutely fucked."

"We do nothing," the pilot said. "We give up, tell them what we can and hope to hell they cut us a plea deal for what information we can give."

Their headsets came to life once more. _"I'm afraid not, gentlemen." _The voice was not Ironwood's. Too rich. Too cultured. _"All company assets must be accounted for. I'm sure you understand. It's only business."_

Neither had a chance to act before their aircraft detonated.

* * *

**So, I always planned for it to be Neo and honestly thought it was obvious, but then people started coming up with other ideas in the reviews and I realised it wasn't as clear cut a choice at all. It was fun to see the various ideas – from Ren to Nora, Pyrrha and even Amber. A lot of that no doubt comes from the fact I haven't confirmed just "how far an AU" this is, so it's possible they might have been taken by Chivalric Arms as well. Ren's Semblance, for instance, would be one of great interest to them. **

**However, I'll say now that this is a small AU. That is to say the AU elements are Chivalric Arms taking Jaune and Jaune only, not the other members of the cast. Team RWBY is still a thing and despite not showing them (and not really planning to) Team JNPR is still a thing. Maybe not written as that – they'd have a fourth member, but since I don't plan to make them a big part of this story, it's not necessary to decide on who that member should be. Still, I'll certainly agree that CA would have had quite a few good options for their weapon. I enjoyed the theories. **

**At the same time I wanted to tie CA to the Paladin. I mean, why IS a huge death robot being transported near or in Vale by Atlas in the show? That seems weird in the show for what we're told is a prototype and extremely dangerous military asset. It doesn't seem like the kind of thing a country would like you developing near their borders even if you are allies. **

**Maybe the WF were able to smuggle it in after stealing it in Atlas, but that seems crazy. Not just crazy to imagine being able to smuggle all that in, but that the White Fang we saw in Vale would be skilled enough to even accomplish it. They were kinda useless, you know? Maybe Roman had a hand and they smuggled it in pieces, then rebuilt it inside Vale. I guess Roman must have had a proper smuggling ring at some point. Either way, I wanted to say that Chivalric Arms are the ones that built it here, and that it's part of their own machinations in Vale.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 20****th**** July**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	24. Chapter 24

**Ignore the troll spamming as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 24**

* * *

"Target has self-destructed. I repeat, target has self-destructed."

"Primary target on sixth by sector A1."

"Sir, the Council of Vale are attempting to patch through."

"Valean airspace requesting priority comms."

"-emergency line from Councillor Adrian Sol."

"_We have visual on primary target. Maintaining distance and requesting orders."_

"Sir! Fires are spreading from the downed Bullheads. One building is engulfed!"

General James Ironwood stood before a digital overlay of the city of Vale, hands down on the edge of the display unit as he stared over the various red icons projected on the 3D hologram. All around him, men and women in uniform sat at various terminals barking away commands and messages. Clover stood nearby, hands linked behind his back, patiently awaiting his orders. A thousand and one things to do. It wasn't an unusual experience.

"Dispatch four squads to deal with the fire below," he eventually called. "Tell Valean airspace we're claiming diplomatic immunity and to seek confirmation on their own. That should keep the Council busy while they rush to confirm if that's the case. Hold Sol on line. Inform him I'll speak once the issue is dealt with."

"Sir!"

"Yes sir!"

Three soldiers hurried off to comply, halving the issues at hand. James hummed loudly, peering down at the map and more specifically the flashing red circle being pursued by three red triangles. The vehicle was keeping to the roads making it easy to track.

"Clover."

"Yes General?"

"Get in contact with Chivalric Arms. I don't care what you need do but I want an explanation for why we have a war machine running loose in the capital city of our allies. I also want full specifications of its capabilities, armour and weapon loadout."

"Yes sir!"

As Clover rushed off to comply, Ironwood leaned down and pressed a single button, patching through to communications. "Ironwood here. Sound in."

"_Elm here. On target."_

"_Marrow here, sir. On target."_

"_Harriet here. On target. Orders, sir?"_

"Maintain distance for now and do not engage," he instructed. "We're working on securing combat capabilities for that weapon. Until then, you are not to engage under any circumstances. I repeat, you are _not_ weapons free."

"_Understood sir."_

The war machine swerved left and began to travel down a new street, the three aircraft in pursuit but falling back just a little. There was no chance of losing the target considering how big it was and how much of a disturbance it was causing, but there could be no attacking it either. The collateral damage would be too intense. Even a single missed shot could kill commuters on the roads, to say nothing of what might happen if that thing was armed with an explosive payload.

"Comms. Patch Sol through to me."

"Yes sir."

The intercom buzzed and Ironwood spoke. "Sol."

"_James. I've been updated on the situation. How bad is it?"_

"We have an unregistered war machine bearing Chivalric Arms' regalia rampaging through the city of an allied Kingdom. It's as bad as it sounds. What the hell are they playing at?"

"_I don't know,"_ Sol admitted, _"But the Council will have answers."_

"Not good enough. I need information right now."

"_We're leaning on them. They're claiming it's stolen."_

"Of course it's stolen!" Ironwood barked. "But it wasn't before. And don't tell me the Jaune Arc snuck that thing into the city either. I want Chivalric Arms answering for this, Sol. They might be able to get away with the `rogue employees` excuse last time, but now they're jeopardising relations between our Kingdom and another. I'll have them dragged up on charges of treason if I must."

"_That's a dangerous claim, James. Private and Public Business won't stand for one of them being dragged over the coals. It sets a precedent that others might face the same. I can see Jacques Schnee raising a stink."_

"I will personally nail Jacques to the wall if he tries. I am _not_ in the mood, Sol. You either call Chivalric's CEO back before the Council to answer for this, or I dispatch troops to arrest and drag him there in person."

"_I'll see it done. Sol out."_

Damn him. Ironwood wasn't sure who he meant with that, but damn them all. The Civilian side of Atlas' Council had their uses whenever issues of a civilian nature came up - they understood urbanisation and taxation better than the military did – but there were times like this where he wondered if it wasn't worth the sacrifice to be rid of them.

It used to be better. Back when this system began, and the positions were filled with genuine people doing their best for Atlas. Before big businesses like the SDC and Chivalric Arms realised the political power they could gain, and the Council became bloated with career politicians taking `generous donations` from investors and businesses who wanted their agendas pushed. Jacques didn't even care what happened to Chivalric Arms; he'd vote against any action on them, though. He'd vote against anything which allowed for oversight into private business.

"Clover," he shouted. "Give me some good news. The Ace Ops can't shadow this thing forever."

Clover held a hand over the receiver he was speaking into. His expression spoke of nothing but ill. "They're claiming its experimental and confidential information, sir. I'm trying to push my way further up the line to speak to someone in charge. No, I _won't_ be submitting a formal request," he snapped into the receiver. "Your machine is running rampant through the streets of Vale. Put me through to someone who can answer for this immediately!"

Fucking hell. Ironwood wasn't normally one to swear but this had to be the worst situation they'd been in for years. They had the firepower to bring it down – no matter how hi-tech it was, it was one machine – but lacking information on its weapon loadout or even its power source, they had no idea what amount of force was enough.

_Or if that thing will go off like a warhead if we detonate it. I can't take that risk in a population centre!_

If they knew what it was armed with he could order the Ace-Ops to steer it to a less populated area, but if they tried that now and it pulled out weaponry they weren't prepared for, he'd be throwing lives away. The damned thing had free reign of the city. It could go wherever it wanted.

"Sir!" someone shouted nervously. "It's moving toward the freeway!"

Ironwood slammed his hands down and stared at the map of the city. It was! The machine had taken another left and was on a direct course for the roads leading up to Vale's freeway, a supported multi-lane road that ran across the entire city. The arteries of Vale and, as a result, packed full of civilians.

"_General Ironwood!"_ Marrow called in. _"It's heading toward a major road. What do we do?"_

"_We can't open fire up there," _Elm shouted. _"One missed shot could bring the whole structure down. There are residential districts below."_

"_We're sitting ducks,"_ Harriet summarised. _"He can shoot us, and we can't shoot back."_

Worse. If they were shot down it would only cause more damage. Damage to their reputation, to their diplomatic stance with Vale and even to the city itself, particularly if more fires came from the debacle. Ironwood looked to Clover, eyes saying everything. Clover shook his head, grimacing and swiping a hand from left to right in a `negative` motion. There was no call back from Sol either, not that he expected them to have cornered Chivalric Arms within the last three minutes.

"_Sir."_ Harriet sounded resigned. _"Requesting orders."_

They knew just as much as he what had to be done. It didn't make it any easier to touch the intercom and broadcast to the entire fleet.

"All units. Pull back. Cease all surveillance." Grudgingly, he sighed. "Let them go."

On the holographic display in front of him, the three triangular blips representing the Ace-Ops pulled away, leaving the red pulsating circle of the war machine to pass along the freeway and eventually disappear from tracking entirely. The bridge of The Vanguard paused for a moment of silence; a frustrated helplessness felt by all.

Clover broke it, shouting angrily into the receiver, "Then expect a military escort to come and _take_ the documentation from you, sir. Good day!" He slammed the device down, stood and summarised everyone's thoughts. "What a mess..."

/-/

The news hadn't gotten any better within the last two hours. The brief talk with Vale's Council had been inconclusive and annoying. Like his own, they didn't understand how or why a battleship like his couldn't just "deal with the problem" and take out the enemy. He had to patiently explain the payload his flagship carried and just how much devastation it would unload on Vale if he'd opened fire. By the end of it, they'd been pale faced and nauseas, acting for all the world like they'd never realised just how large an arsenal an Atlas battleship held.

Ridiculous. It was a battleship. What about that designation suggested a precision implement? It was designed for ripping holes in large armoured warships or bombarding Grimm hordes from a distance. Their largest cannon would have indeed torn that thing to shreds, just as it would have the freeway, a whole block of houses below it and every civilian within a two hundred metre diameter with – and this had been tested – a ninety-eight per cent lethal efficiency.

What precision tools they did have, namely their aircraft and lighter barrages, might have been enough had they received specification of what they faced. The problem was that using it would have engaged hostilities. If he'd sent the Bullheads in, Arc would have known that he had to fight. And that was a final decision. He'd have started a running battle with an experimental military weapon in the middle of the city.

Without proper intel, that just couldn't be done.

"_James."_

Ironwood sighed and looked up at, for once, a friendly face on his monitor. "Ozpin. I hope you're not here to heap more trouble on my plate."

"_Not at all. I wanted to personally thank you for holding back."_

"What else could I do? At least someone understands why it's not a good idea to wildly engage an enemy whose combat parameters you have no idea of in the middle of a city. Your Council is made up of morons."

"_And yours isn't? I've heard nothing but complaints from you for months."_

"It's a pandemic of stupidity," James gritted out. "Letting them escape with the machine was the better choice. It'll be easier to deal with it later than now, especially if we can locate and disarm it before it's activated again. We can always try again, and next time we can better evacuate the civilians. Fighting them then and there would have led to untold loss of life."

"_I agree. I'd much rather you not force someone so dangerous into a corner when they are armed with something like that. You have my assistance, naturally. I can send Qrow and huntsmen in should you need them. Has Chivalric Arms capitulated and provided you the weapon specifications?"_

"If you count these preliminary reports, yes." Ironwood felt no fear waving them in front of the screen. Why would he when they were redacted so heavily it might as well be a solid block of black lines. "I've sent back a demand for a complete copy. I'd say I can't believe they're daring to push us like this, but business has never had any respect for Government and we both know they're stalling. I've half a mind to order an invasion of their premises."

"_It would be amusing to see. Sadly, they manufacture most of your arms, don't they?"_

"They do." Ironwood sighed. "Part of the reason they get away with as much as they do." A notice appeared on the bottom of the screen and he hummed. "One second. I have a priority call from Atlas. I have to take this."

"_I'll remain on hold."_

Nodding, he pushed Ozpin's call aside and muted it, then accepted the one from Atlas.

Adrian Sol's face appeared. The man looked as haggard as James felt, and was clearly in James' office. It was close enough to the Council Chambers that he imagined Sol had come right there for what would be a long night's work. Retirement meant little at times.

"_James. The Council meeting has concluded. I have your specs for you."_

"Unredacted…?"

"_Clear, though on a personal level I'm unsure how much I trust them. Chivalric Arms has said the redacted copy you were sent was a clerical error from an overzealous employee seeking to follow company policy and not realising it was an emergency."_

"Hmph. I'm sure it was."

"_I'm sending them through to you now."_

"Summarise for me."

"_Anti-air, anti-ground, anti-missile, anti-infantry, anti-armour. About the only thing it isn't anti- is high velocity kinetics, and even then it's armed with some thrust capability, so it might be able to dodge a shot from a battleship. Well, the initial shot. Its armour is hefty on the front, but I doubt it would stand up to that kind of payload. Your aircraft, on the other hand, would have been swatted out the air."_

"The right choice to retreat, then."

"_Indeed. I and the other military minds on the Council understand that."_

"Civilians…?"

"_Not as understanding. Chivalric Arms themselves are quite upset and seem to think you should have secured the prototype for them. Worry not,"_ he said when Ironwood's face shifted. _"We explained to the Council why that wouldn't have been possible. I won't say they understand it, but they've accepted there was no better option."_

"Good. Why do we allow them involvement in military affairs again?"

"_Because Atlas is a democracy, James. You know that. Keeping them out of military issues is only one step from keeping them out of other things. It's a slippery slope back to the authoritarian regime Mantle once was. This isn't ideal, I agree, but this inconvenience is better than the trouble they would raise if we tried to keep them out. The people wouldn't understand." _

That was the crux of it. The people. Politics always did play more on popularity than capability, which was a dangerous tone to take. Popular decisions were often by their very nature inefficient decisions. Lower taxes, more freedoms and less oversight sounded good on paper, but when that led to less investment for healthcare, businesses like the SDC using their freedom to force impossible working conditions on faunus and for Chivalric Arms to get away with what it was, the flaws in said ideals became apparent.

The problem wasn't the average joe on the street using his new freedoms to cause trouble. It was those with power using the law to skirt around its intent. It was important documentation on a rogue war machine being withheld because `business didn't answer to military` at a time where it mattered. And as a result, Jaune Arc and Roman Torchwick were free to escape with their trophy.

"What of the model itself?" Ironwood asked. "Did Chivalric Arms have an explanation for why they're developing military technology in an allied city under false pretences? I've love to hear an explanation for that."

"_The machine was stolen by the White Fang and brought to Vale."_

"What!?" Ironwood slammed his chair back, standing and punching a fist down onto the desk. "That is nonsense and you know it, Sol. Don't feed me that crap!"

"_It is what it is, James. You and I both know how this is going to go. There's not enough evidence to provide for a case that Chivalric Arms breached international law, and it's not in Atlas' best interests to prove it. Not in Vale's either. If it gets out that something like that was built in Vale, their Council will be forced to act against us or lose face. We'll be forced to act in kind. Trade sanctions, accusations and long legal battles that will go nowhere, not to mention the loss of face. It could cost us our treaty. Neither side desires that kind of incident right before the Vytal Festival. We can't afford it, not with so many problems on our plate. The White Fang are a convenient excuse. It is as of now the official findings of the Council."_

"And Chivalric Arms goes free yet again," Ironwood sneered.

"_What do you want of me, James? I know your personal crusade to see justice done. I don't disagree with it. I really don't. But Atlas is bigger than one young man and his family. Ten people, James. Ten people for the sake of tens of thousands whose lives might be uprooted by this."_

"Uprooted meaning losses of jobs, Sol. Not life."

"_It can feel just as devastating to those it affects."_

"I think Jaune Arc would disagree."

"_Jaune Arc is a criminal. He is a terrorist. His opinion isn't important to Atlas, nor should it be important to you. As I said, James, this is a democracy. It is the majority that matters. The truth is what the majority votes on. In this case, the truth is that the White Fang has stolen a powerful military weapon from Chivalric Arms and smuggled it into Vale with the intent of arming dangerous psychopath Jaune Arc with enough firepower to imperil innocent civilians – and that Atlas will be the ones to stop him, bringing down the monster and saving the day."_

Sol leaned back in Ironwood's own seat, his face set in firm neutrality. _"That is the truth the Council has decided upon, and the truth you will have to come to terms with. The official news has already been sent out to the proper channels. As of now, it is accepted as fact across all four Kingdoms. Deviate from it and you'll only cause problems."_

Deviate and be removed, he didn't say. Sol didn't need to. His position as General of Atlas was also tied into the vote system, albeit that kind of vote was thankfully among the military only. That said, the full council could call a vote of no confidence if it were unanimous. They might have to if he went out and claimed his own council was lying. It would be him versus them, and they'd take whatever steps necessary to ensure Atlas' reputation was not impinged.

Jaune Arc was just one person. He wasn't even an Atlas citizen. The truth he carried, however, had the potential to upset a lot of people. And so long as Chivalric Arms were supplying arms and tech to Atlas, they were a million times more useful than Jaune Arc would ever be.

"_It is what it is, James. The White Fang stole the machine – it's called a Paladin by the way. Very exciting technology once it's in our hands. It could do a lot of good for Atlas, both against the White Fang and the Grimm."_

"And that fact forgives Chivalric Arms all they've done? Are we now a Kingdom willing to sell our own out for power and influence?"

"_We always have been, James. Always have been."_

Ironwood closed the call before he could put a fist through the screen. It caused Ozpin's to come back up, despite that he would have preferred silence. Ozpin understood his expression, thankfully. The man sighed and waited patiently for him to calm down. And to speak.

"The White Fang stole the Paladin from Atlas and brought it to Vale."

"_Impressive of them, especially considering how hard it must have been to smuggle it in."_ Ozpin sighed, knowing the truth just as well as he did. _"I expect the Council of Vale will be agreeing with that theory soon enough. It's easy to blame the faunus. Even good for business for certain people. I'll speak with you in person soon, James. Welcome to Vale. I wish it could have been on a happier note. If you need to get away from it come visit. Glynda and I shall have tea and coffee prepared."_

"Thank you, Ozpin. I've a feeling I'll need that. Ironwood out."

The screen winked dark, leaving Ironwood alone with his thoughts. His one good hand came up to cup his chin, fingers covering his mouth. Everything had seemed to simple before. The White Fang broke the law and attacked innocent people. The Grimm were mindless monsters. Even Salem and the truth few others were privy to was simple compared to this. It had always been easy to do the right thing, even if that meant driving his men into exhaustion.

The right thing. What was that now?

One man, one family, or the stability of Atlas. One man's life against the relative peace of mind of over half a million people. If it were lives against lives it would have been an easy choice but lives against peace; justice against stability; truth against convenience.

A good soldier would follow orders.

"Sir." Clover waited in the doorway, knocking lightly on the metal hull beside it. "I have news from Vale."

"Enter, Clover. What is it?"

"I've finished patching us into the police dispatches with their approval, sir. I have Zeki overseeing it. One thing he noticed rather quickly was a sudden attack on the other side of the city. A fleet of four lorries moving in convoy were attacked, upturned and robbed. Everyone within was killed."

"Are we blaming that on Arc as well?" Ironwood asked testily. "Impressive of him to be in two places at once."

"Sir?"

"Nothing, Clover. I'll explain in debriefing. There's something suspicious about this attack, I take it, or Zeki wouldn't have brought it to your attention."

"Yes sir." Clover stepped up and deposited a single printed image on his table. On it, a man in black lay slumped over the steering wheel of a lorry, his visor and helmet melted to his face and the window not smashed, but turned to a slurry on the edges, thick and curling inward like it had been struck by heated plasma. "This is one of the drivers, sir. The driver of – according to the livery – a kitchen appliances company. Dishwashers and such."

Ironwood chuckled. "Heavily armed for that kind of job. I suppose lifting home appliances into place must involve body armour and handguns now." Scrunching the paper up, Ironwood tossed it into a nearby waste disposal bin. "Any survivors we can question?"

"None sir. Whoever hit them took effort to kill each and every one of them."

"And the cargo…?"

"Gone. No home appliances as you might imagine. We found discarded medical equipment in one, along with a medical bed strapped down to the floor."

His fingers dug into the metal table. "And the patient?"

"Missing, sir. No sign of a body."

/-/

Roman was no stranger to unflattering news stories but even he had to turn off in disgust when Lisa Lavender started to talk about how he'd thrown his lot in with the White Fang in smuggling dangerous military hardware into the city, which he'd apparently used alongside Jaune Arc to attack and rob a warehouse before joyriding through the city in.

That was the end of him, wasn't it? He'd always been careful to keep himself on the right side of things. The wrong side of the law, admittedly, but the _right_ wrong side. That was to say he stole, blackmailed, and conned but didn't kill. He didn't do anything that would have earned himself a life sentence of the interest of every huntsman in the Kingdom.

_So much for that. I'm well and truly stuck now. _

Roman Torchwick – terrorist. It didn't even sound good. He tossed the remote away with a groan, pushed himself out the loveseat and stomped loudly toward the dining room of his safehouse, making sure the two brats inside heard him coming.

"Surprise, surprise, we're being hailed as monsters," he reported upon entering. Jaune looked up from where he was sat next to the mute girl who had decided to come along with them. The promise of clothes and food had been enough for her. He'd granted her a spare pair of his pants that were much too long for her, and she was still wearing his coat, looking for all intents and purposes like a miniature version of him. Throw in a bowler cap to cover some of that hair and they could have looked like father and daughter. Wandering over, he pulled out a seat and sat down. "Figured out anything from our delightful little guest?"

The girl grinned cheerily up at him from a bowl of ice-cream she was devouring. Adorable. In a murder you later kind of way. Roman puffed on his cigar, so far out of shits to give that the casual threat amused more than worried him.

"Only that they moved my mom out of there before," Jaune said. "She says Mom used to look after her, comfort her. Well, she doesn't _say_ anything, but you get the idea."

"Hmm. Makes sense." The kid didn't look jealous about the fact the girl got to be with his mother when he didn't. That was good. "Mothering instinct. I've seen it happen before, often in stick-ups and hostage situations." Usually when he was robbing a store and there were customers inside. He didn't let any harm come to them, but they'd still been afraid. "Some people deal with stress by curling up into a ball and panicking while others push it away by looking after other people. It's sort of a way to distract themselves from what's going on. Fight or flight, but instead of that it's nurture or internalise."

"Having someone to look after might have made your mom feel a little less anxious about losing all of you," he added. "It would have been a comfort to her, like letting a child keep a teddy bear when sleeping alone."

Jaune looked surprised by his expertise. Roman shrugged – understanding how people acted and reacted was the first step to avoiding accidents. He liked to plan his ops out, especially early on when he'd been making a name for himself and one mistake would have meant jailtime and the death of his career.

"What's more surprising to me is how the midget could pilot that thing." Roman cocked an eyebrow when the girl scowled at him. "Don't like the name? Well maybe if you'd write down your name for us, I could use that." He smirked. "Midget."

Her mismatched eyes fumed at him.

"CA would have just called her weapon or subject. It's what they did for me."

Roman hummed, watching the girl nod to say it was true. Creepy bastards, those CA guys. "Fine. Sounds like you need a name. You sure you want us of all people to come up with it? He calls himself `Null`. I mean, can you imagine someone that edgy?"

The girl giggled silently but motioned for him to do it. At least she had the sense to leave it in his hands. Then again, he was so tired he couldn't think straight. His eyes roamed over the room before settling on her, her hair and then the bowl of ice-cream before her.

"Neo. Neo Politan."

"Roman, really?" Jaune sounded offended. "That's-"

The girl – Neo now, he supposed – nodded happily. She mouthed the word `Neo` a few times, tasting and finding it to her liking. Roman wasn't sure if she knew where he'd got the idea from or not. Hopefully, she'd see the funny side once she did.

"Neo, then. Sheesh." Jaune didn't see the funny side. "I guess they must have been training her to use it. I'm more surprised Atlas let us go when they had us dead to rights. I hope the White Fang can keep that thing hidden."

Wouldn't count on it. Even ignoring the fact those guys were idiots, it wasn't going to be easy to hide something that big. He wasn't about to say that when it might mean them having to get rid of it, though. "I'm sure they'll be fine. Not like we can handle it ourselves. As for Atlas, I imagine they thought we were taking all those people on the freeway hostage. Sort of a shoot at us and we'll shoot at them kind of deal. That's certainly how the news is playing it."

"Yeah. They usually do."

He sounded used to it, which earned a groan from Roman. It was alright for the kid to not care about his already ruined reputation, but he had bigger concerns. _I'll have to leave Vale once this is over. There's no way I can stick around. Maybe fake my death and move to Mistral. I hear that have work for enterprising criminals._

Assuming he survived, that was. With Atlas here, things had gone from dicey to outright ridiculous.

Roman's scroll began to buzz. Jaune and Neo looked over but didn't seem overly interested. Sighing, he took it and held it up, signalling he had to answer it before walking off back into the living room to do so. He prayed it was Junior with good news.

"_Hello Roman. Nice to see you again."_

Oh hell. "Cinder. How are you? Is this about the dust? I'm busy catching up on stock and I'm a little behind, I know, but you've heard about what happened."

"_Your arrest, yes."_ There was laughter on the other end. Her stupid brats no doubt. _"For once I'm not calling about that. You are behind schedule, but your recover is admirable given the circumstances. I am satisfied by your recent work with the White Fang."_

Satisfaction, huh? That was new. Telling, too. Cinder wasn't the type to let anyone off the hook, which meant she was preparing another to throw him on the moment he let his guard down. He wasn't about to.

"So, if this isn't about that, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"_I understand you're currently sharing board with an interesting young man."_

Roman glanced back to the dining room and lowered his voice. "That's one way to put it. I'd say `terrifying` personally. Dangerous – and not in the good way either. More like a wild animal you're worried might take your face off if you look at it wrong."

"_And what is the good kind of dangerous, Roman?"_

"Why, that's you of course. Clever dangerous. Dangerous but reasonable so long as I'm being useful."

"_Hm. Quite the flatterer you are today. Then again, I've seen the news. You must be coming down off quite the rush. I'm genuinely impressed, Roman. Causing all that trouble and then evading Atlas without capture isn't something to be brushed aside."_

And now who was the one buttering the other up? Roman cupped his face, already knowing she wanted something they both knew he wouldn't like. Damn it. Things were bad enough with one nutcase in his life, but now he had a mini-me in the form of Neo and _Cinder_ of all people was showing interest.

This really wasn't his year.

"What do you want, Cinder?"

"_I want to meet with and talk to your young friend. I have an offer for him."_

"Word of warning, he's got a one-track mind. I can tell you now that no amount of money, power or anything else is going to convince him working for you is a good idea. That's not just me causing trouble, Cinder. I'm stating facts."

"_I'm aware, Roman. You needn't worry. He'll want to meet with me tomorrow. In fact, he'll insist on it."_

Roman felt an uncomfortable put open in his stomach. "Dare I ask why?"

"_Because I have something he's looking for."_

Cinder chuckled.

"_Or should I say, someone."_

* * *

**I wonder who she has.**

"**I have… Spruce Willis!"**

**Massively unimpressed Jaune face.**

"**What? I asked Adam what you like, and he said Spruce Willis movies. Wait, where are you going? Come back and serve me, knave! Don't walk away from me!"**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 27****th**** July**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	25. Chapter 25

**Ignore the troll spamming guest reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 25**

* * *

"Please try not to cause a scene. This woman is dangerous."

Roman had been complaining ever since the meeting was arranged, warning him incessantly on the so-called danger of threatening this woman. The thief either didn't realise how dangerous _he_ was as well, or really didn't have a good opinion of him. If someone wanted to give him one of his family back, he wasn't going to go in guns blazing.

Telling Roman that hadn't eased his worry. Jaune stopped trying. In the backseat of the mundane vehicle driving into a car park behind a nightclub was Neo, now dressed in some semblance of clothing, though it was almost a mimicry of Roman's. She'd chosen it and the colours without much thought, literally copying the first person in front of her. Then again, she'd been sticking to Roman since they'd freed her. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the ice-cream or the drink he let her have, or maybe it was the lack of control he exerted.

For someone like them, trapped in a cage like an animal at a zoo, it was hard to put your faith in people stronger than you. Neo might have noticed the lack of shits Roman gave and the overall freedom he had to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to, and decided she wanted that same freedom. It wasn't the worst reason he could think of to join someone. For his part, Roman seemed to know Neo was as dangerous as Jaune was and put up with her without complaint.

The car came to a stop and the engine died down. Neo slid over to open her door and Jaune did the same, the two of them climbing out while Roman pulled on his bowler hat, snuffed out a cigar and locked it behind them.

"I'm serious here, and it goes the both of you. As strong as you are, please don't start anything here. Do that as a favour to me if nothing else."

"We heard you the first three times, Roman. I'm not going to start anything."

"Don't finish anything either! She's a controlling type and isn't afraid to throw her weight around. You don't have to push back. If you want to say no, say no. Don't try and beat her at her own game or you'll start a pissing contest that'll end in disaster." He tugged his coat around him, shivering in the cold morning air. "Let's get this over with. Let me do most of the talking."

The nightclub wasn't Junior's. It was something much smaller and seedier and, at what was around eleven in the morning, closed for business. They let themselves in a fire door and a tattooed man with a bald head welcomed Roman, eyeing Jaune nervously over his shoulder. Even the hardened criminals appeared to know his name now. And his reputation, as much as that was exaggerated by Atlas. Roman exchanged some pleasantries with the man before he pointed them in a direction and told Roman _she_ was waiting.

_She_ was alone. _She_ was a woman in a red dress with flowing black hair over one eye, a piercing smile and painted nails. _She_ didn't have anyone with her, and his hand slipped down to Mors before he could stop himself.

"You said you had one of my family," he snapped before Roman could say a thing. "I hope that wasn't a lie."

Roman choked on his cigar, stared at him and flung his arms in the air.

The woman, however, simply chuckled. "A one-track mind indeed. I can respect that. Your mother is alive, well and here today. Allow me to assure you of that. The only reason I didn't bring her out immediately was because I didn't want you to react without thought and assume I was keeping her prisoner." Raising a hand, she clicked her fingers. "Mercury. Emerald. Bring Mrs Arc in."

A set of double doors opened and two people his age entered. Jaune paid only the barest attention to them, because behind them came someone who almost tore a whimper from his lips. Juniper Arc – _mom_ – stepped into the room with haunted eyes and an outfit a little too tight for her in places. A grey sweater over black sweatpants and a brown coat that only reached her waist. Her blonde hair was cut short, her green eyes sunken and rounded by shadow. The lines on her face stretched like canyons and the way her eyes darted around spoke of the same paranoia he suffered every time he entered a new room.

And then she saw him, and there was no stopping the sob that broke from her. Stumbling between the boy and the girl, she rushed forward and crashed into him, so light that even at such speed he was able to hold his ground.

"Jaune!" she wept, hands on his chest, his shoulders and then his face. She ran them across him as though to make sure he was there and real. "Jaune. My baby. You're alive. Oh Jaune, I – I'm so sorry. All those things they did. I let them take you away from me-"

She didn't _let_ anything happen. He wanted to hang onto her and never let go. He wanted to sink to his knees, babble stories of how the girls were okay and tell her she'd be alright. He wanted to squeeze her so tight she couldn't doubt he was real. There was so much he wanted to do, but he hooked a hand around her waist and pulled her behind him instead, placing one foot across her body so that they couldn't take her back if they tried.

To his surprise, no one did.

"Your mother is returned to you freely," Cinder said with a kindly smile. "We've done our best to look after, dress and feed her, but our resources are limited and none of our outfits fit her. I hope you understand. We've only had her for half a day now. Her injuries were superficial, and we did the best for them we could."

Jaune leaned his head back. "Mom?"

"It… It's true." Voice choking and face buried into the back of his neck, she said, "They saved me. And… And they weren't cruel. They gave me what medical attention they could. I owe them my life. My freedom."

Jaune nodded. Mom owed them, and that meant he'd refrain from walking away. He looked back to Cinder. "You have my attention."

"I'm glad." Not rising, she gestured for her two companions to sit and then pointed to the seats opposite. It was a round cushioned bench around a circular table. "Why not sit down? I assure you we're not here with violent intentions. If we were, it would be a bad idea for me to invite you this close. Take the fact I am as a sign of good faith."

She knew about his Semblance then. In which case she knew that however good she was, she was a single bullet away from death. As much as he wanted to take Juniper and go, he did owe them. If only a little.

_I can't afford to burn bridges here._

That didn't mean he was prepared to trust. Not again.

"Very well."

He moved over, bringing Juniper with him. Neo was quick to take the spot on her left, holding onto one of Juniper's hands and looking up at her face almost lovingly. He was surprised to see Juniper squeeze her hand back and favour her with a tired smile. They really had been close. Or rather, they'd used his mother to calm Neo down and keep her compliant. He sat on her right, content that between the two of them, she would be safe. Roman took the final spot to Neo's left, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

"I'll skip the small talk," Cinder said. "We found your mother in a convoy from Chivalric Arms we hit for our own purposes. We didn't expect to find her there, but we knew about her and your family thanks to our arrangement with Adam Taurus. It was an accident, but a happy one for everyone involved. Has Adam mentioned us?"

"He's mentioned you."

"That's good. Our objective in the attack was to claim the prototype Paladin you've recently come into possession of. We assumed, incorrectly, that the convoy would be protecting it. Exposing it would have sparked chaos between Atlas and Vale, bringing their alliance into question. Your own actions in the city must have spooked them, however, because they were trying to move your mother out the Kingdom entirely. I dare say if we hadn't found her, she would be long gone."

Out…? Jaune's entire body shuddered. If they hadn't found her, his mom would already be on her way back to Atlas, and him stuck in Vale thanks to Blake's betrayal. She'd have been well out of his reach. That he only had her now due to blind luck and the actions of another made him feel incredibly small.

He squeezed her hand and felt his heart sing when she squeezed back. She was real, here, and he wasn't going to let go of her anytime soon.

"Thank you," he said to Cinder. "For saving her."

Cinder leaned forward. "If you want to thank me, I will accept the Paladin as that."

"A trade?"

"No," she said quickly. "A trade suggests I will be keeping dear Juniper until you uphold your side of the bargain. That is not the case. Our… work isn't conductive to an innocent like her, and we'd not be able to look after her as she deserves. We also don't benefit from holding her. You may consider her safe return a gesture of good will regardless of what you decide here. I'm simply asking if you will allow me to take the Paladin as recompense."

That was unexpectedly generous, though perhaps it shouldn't have been. Cinder knew of his Semblance and Adam had said she was interested in him. Withholding Juniper would be a quick way to annoy him, and while he wouldn't go crazy and start shooting when she'd offered a way out by trading the Paladin for her, he wouldn't have been interested in working with her afterwards. He still wasn't. He did owe her, though.

"You can take it." There was no argument from Roman. It really wasn't something they needed. "The White Fang have it now, but I can tell them to relinquish it to you. As a sign of gratitude for helping my mother."

Cinder's smile was a satisfied one. "I'm pleased to hear that, and I graciously accept. I'll throw in some free information you may find pertinent too – Juniper already knows it from Mercury and Emerald, so she would have told you anyway. Atlas is also looking for members of your family as you might have expected. What they have been less open on is that they have acquired some."

"Do you mean Saphron?" he asked. "I saw about her on the news…"

"There's another too. The Bullhead that travelled to Vacuo was intercepted by Winter Schnee. The cargo was recovered and brought back to Atlas." Cinder frowned. "The name of the sibling in question eludes me, but Juniper knows it…"

"Sable." Juniper answered immediately. "Ironwood has Sable."

Sable and Saphron were held by Atlas. With Hazel, Jade, Lavender and Coral in Menagerie, that only left Amber behind – the youngest. While it was frustrating to know Atlas held them, at least they were in one place. It would save him having to travel to Vacuo. That meant Amber was still in Vale somewhere too. He was in the right place.

"Thank you for letting me know," he said, with a genuine nod of respect. "I'll find a way to get them from Atlas once I have Amber safe and sound. I need to get mom to Menagerie first."

"I'm sure the White Fang can aid you with that," Cinder said diplomatically. "I'm afraid it's not within our capabilities currently."

"There's more, isn't there? The Paladin is useful, but I doubt you'd have called me here and done all this if it were just for that. You could have had Roman organise this without ever putting yourself in harms way."

The generous gestures. Making it clear they'd looked after Juniper. Calling it a request instead of a trade. All of it spoke to her trying to butter him up for something, and after Blake's betrayal, he wasn't sure he was prepared to trust some random person. Especially not one with black hair and yellow eyes. Cinder was cat ears away from being Blake's long-lost sister.

"You're perceptive. Or maybe paranoid. I would like for us to work together in the future…"

"Not interested." He cut her off before she could finish. "I'm only here to save my family. Anything else going on is none of my business."

"You ungrateful-" the green haired girl made to rise but Cinder placed a hand on her knee and pushed her back down.

"Emerald, dear. Don't be rude. This isn't unexpected." Cinder smiled his way, a subtle apology for her companion that had his hand slowly moving away from Mors. "And I'm not interested in forcing your hand. I'd rather you be an ally, but I'll accept our relationship being favourably neutral over antagonistic. If I may, would you interfere in any of my goals?"

"Are they aimed against my family?"

"They're not. My work will primarily focus on Beacon."

"We won't have any problems then," he promised.

"I'm relieved to hear that. I'm looking for something, and that does require someone to die, but that person is not related to you. I promise you that. She is already on death's door and has stolen something from me. Still, I understand you were willing to work with the White Fang because they assisted you in rescuing your sisters."

"That was because I needed them."

_I don't need you_ went unsaid, but Cinder heard it.

"Understandable. Then, if I may enquire, were we able to locate your final sister and assist you in rescuing her, would you be prepared to assist us? If we saw them all safely to Menagerie and offered to aid you in reclaiming Sable and Saphron from Atlas as well?"

Jaune's hands gripped the table. "Do you know where Amber is?"

"No. I would have said so if I did." Cinder spoke quickly. "There are no tricks here, Jaune. No deceit. I don't currently know where your missing sister is, and I may never find out, but if I knew your assistance might be mine if I were to find her, I would divert resources to looking. I'm laying my cards on the table," she said with a flourish of her hands. "I want your Semblance. That much is obvious. If it is also on the table, I'll do my best to acquire it. Not as Chivalric Arms has, but in the same manner Adam has. Mutual aid. Just as you're not interested in helping me, I'm not really interested in helping you find Amber Arc. But I do want your Semblance. It would be useful to me. So, if you tell me that you would work with me, I'd consider it worth my time to try."

She was quick to assure him of that. The whole meeting had been nothing but it. For someone who Roman called dangerous, threatening and not afraid to throw her weight around, she was being incredibly diplomatic. She'd as good as said why. She wanted him for his Semblance, but she knew how dangerous it was and that he couldn't be threatened.

Or he could be – she could have threatened to kill Juniper – but they both knew that would only end one way. If his Semblance was anything less, she might have done that, but it wasn't. It didn't matter how strong she was. It didn't matter what her Semblance was.

Cinder was less than two metres away from him. If he wanted it, she would die. Juniper might fall in any crossfire and he had no idea what Semblances she or her companions had, but none of those would matter if he activated Null.

And yet here she was, prepared to risk it all for her goals. Goals he didn't know and, even if he did, they were goals he wouldn't be interested in. Vale wasn't his home and after siding with Atlas, it wasn't a home he wanted. The girls were waiting in Menagerie. That was the only thing that mattered. That, and getting hold of Amber, Saphron and Sable. Terra and Adrian too.

"If you find Amber before I do, I'll listen. If you help me get her out of Vale and to Menagerie…" He met Cinder's eyes. "I'll help you. Within reason. I'm not giving you ten years of my life for this, but if it's a few jobs then I'm yours."

"Within reason is all I ask. At most, I'd want you assistance in a single attack. It might take two, three days – but only one day of that would be action. Only a few hours, in fact. After, I'm content to go our separate ways or even help you in Atlas. I have business there eventually, so it will hardly inconvenience me."

"Then I'll agree."

Cinder looked pleased. "Thank you. I can't promise results, but I'll have Mercury and Emerald look into this more than we originally planned to. I'll contact the White Fang tomorrow to arrange for the transfer of the Paladin. Please let them know ahead of time so we can avoid any misunderstandings. If I learn anything about your sister, I shall let Roman know."

"Agreed."

Jaune stood and reached out a hand. Cinder stood and took it, curling her fingers around his and shaking it firmly. No Semblances, no threats and no veiled words. Once that was done, she wished them well, congratulated Juniper on reuniting with him, and excused herself.

They left too, Roman silently pugging on a cigar as they four of them walked back through the halls and out of the club, back to Roman's car.

"Fuck me." It wasn't until they were outside that Roman finally spoke, and it was a whispered and hysterical breath of air. "That – What are you? Cinder _asked_. She was _polite_. She gave you a _choice_." Roman looked down on him with naked fear. "What exactly is your Semblance that she'd treat you like an equal?"

"Not something you need to worry about as long as you're helping me," Jaune replied. Letting Roman know would only give him time to find a way around it. He watched Neo help Juniper into the back of the car and climb in after her. The mute test subject looked deliriously happy to see her again and hadn't let go of her hand since they found her. Maybe she'd be coming to Menagerie with them. "I need a way to get my mother out of Vale," he said. "I need her on her way to Menagerie before Atlas or Chivalric Arms find us again. You're the master thief. How do I sneak her out the city?"

"I'll come up with something," he promised. "Just give me time."

"You've got some. I want to get mom back to our safehouse and then on a call to the girls in Menagerie." A rare smile appeared on Jaune's face. "They'll be thrilled to see her again."

They were so close. So close to a family once more. Just one more sister to find in Vale, and then Saphron and Sable were together in Atlas. They were on the verge of bringing the Arc family back together again.

/-/

"Miss Belladonna."

Team RWBY looked up from their dorm room floor and the game of Remnant they'd been playing. To see a General in the doorway flanked by two soldiers calling out the name of your partner wasn't what she'd consider a normal or good thing. It felt like they were coming to arrest her, which was bullshit since Blake hadn't done anything. Even so, her partner stood up, all but acknowledging they had a right to call on her.

"Hey! Hey!" Yang scrambled to her feet. "What's all this about? Blake hasn't done anythi-"

"It's fine." Blake waved her back down with a smile that didn't quite hide the fear in her eyes. "There's nothing wrong. I've been expecting this."

"Your teammate is not under arrest," General Ironwood said. "I simply wish to speak with her and, as an official of Atlas, must travel with an escort. Miss Belladonna will be in meetings with myself, the headmaster and Winter Schnee for the rest of the day. I promise you she will be back with her team before nightfall."

"Will she need a lawyer?" Weiss asked icily.

"Not unless she wants to sue me for something," the grown man replied with a little chuckle. "A pleasure to see you as well, Weiss. I understand you're somewhat upset with Winter right now."

Weiss raised her nose. "Somewhat."

"Your sister has your best interests at heart, even if I can understand why you might find her manner of conveying that to be rather blunt." He moved aside so Blake could slip between him and the door. The two soldiers outside flanked her but didn't try and put her in cuffs. "I am sorry for the disturbance; both this and your curfew to Beacon. We're trying to address the issue and see some sense of normalcy returned to Vale."

"And Blake is a part of that?" Ruby asked.

"In a manner of speaking. I really cannot say more, and that is more out of respect to your teammate than anything." He smiled and nodded his head slowly to them. "Rest assured, no harm shall come to her. Miss Belladonna is going to assist us. That is all."

"I am," Blake said. "Don't worry. I expected this to happen. I'll see you all later."

_You expected this and you didn't tell us,_ Yang thought. Typical Blake to be honest, but that didn't make it any easier. There was nothing they could say to it either. Ironwood turned away and closed the door with a short `good day` and then it was just the three of them. The board game called, but no one was in the mood now. Yang tossed her cards down angrily, upsetting the pieces.

"This is stupid."

"Blake didn't seem surprised," Weiss said. "This wasn't a shock to her."

"Still could have forewarned us. Maybe before I got up and basically told off the General of another Kingdom." Yang scowled at Ruby, who was giggling away. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I could have been arrested."

"I doubt Ironwood would do that. He's a strict but fair man and all you did was show concern for a teammate. What do you think this is about?" Weiss changed tact quickly, leaning forward. "This _has_ to be related to why Winter has placed me on curfew."

"The serial killer?"

"What else can it be? Everyone knows he started in Atlas and came here, and that Ironwood is the one tasked with stopping him. Now he's come to Blake to ask questions? That can't be a coincidence."

"Why would Blake know anything about a serial killer, though?" Ruby asked.

That was the big question, wasn't it? Their teammate was private at the best of times, but not unfriendly. Sure, there were some things about her that were a little weird, but most of those could be boiled down to her being anti-social. Not awkward like Ruby, but just not much of a talker. Blake interacted with them in their rooms and spoke up in class, but she didn't try and make friends outside of it. Nothing unusual about that, though.

"What if she saw him kill someone?"

With a start, Yang looked to Ruby. "What?"

"That's a bit of a jump in logic," Weiss pointed out.

"Is it? The only reason Ironwood would be interested in asking Blake something is if she knows about the killer, right? And do you remember when Weiss' sister came down? She looked at Blake like she recognised her. Then when she put the curfew on Weiss, Blake was the only one who didn't argue."

"She agreed with it," Weiss said with a frown. "She was the only one to agree with my sister's decision and side with us not going into Vale. I see what you mean. That _is_ odd. Blake doesn't strike me as someone easily intimidated, but she's been very quick to remind us of the curfew every time we mention going out. It's like she's trying to stop us going into the city."

"It's not just you, Weiss," Yang said. "I asked her if she wanted to go out dust shopping the other day and she couldn't have turned me down faster. Absolute shut down. Wouldn't even _hear_ of the idea. If I didn't know better, I'd have said she was agoraphobic."

"Except that she was fine in Initiation."

"Yeah…"

"Something is up," Weiss said. "Good catch, Ruby. Perhaps Blake witnessed him in action – that would explain why she's so dismissive of our ability to fight him."

Yang scowled. That was still a sore point, especially from her own partner. They were huntresses and accepted into Beacon. That was no small feat, not to mention they were some of the best in class, second only to Pyrrha Nikos. And come on, second to Pyrrha Nikos was a glowing recommendation. This guy was known not to have any huntsman training, and while he worked with the White Fang, the whole reason they were dangerous was because it was an organisation. They had numbers and resources. Individually, they weren't all that tough.

"So," Yang said. "Blake sees something – probably before Beacon started since she hasn't left since. Didn't she arrive late, too? I never saw her on the Bullhead."

"She was escorted in by Ozpin while everyone was preparing to sleep," Weiss said. "Perhaps she was late because of whatever incident this was. I don't think she would have been a victim since she took part in initiation the very next day, but if she were a witness to a crime then she might have been kept behind at a police station to give a statement."

"But she can't be kept for too long because initiation," Ruby chimed in. "So Ozpin comes and brings her here so she can continue as normal, but on the condition Mr Ironwood can come and ask her questions later!"

It was a lot of random leads put together, but she couldn't say it sounded unbelievable. It was about the only thing that made sense. Blake obviously had something with that Jaune guy, otherwise she wouldn't be so cagey about the team fighting him. Since she obviously wasn't a coward, she must have seen something that spooked her. Yang had seen bad injuries in her time in Signal, some gory, but she'd never seen death first hand. She liked to think if it were a gunshot that did it, she'd be able to stomach it, but who could say how visceral what Blake saw was. It might have been like something out of a slasher movie.

"Does this change anything?" Ruby asked nervously.

"Not really." Yang said. "It's not like she's done anything wrong and it's not our place to ask what she saw if she doesn't want to tell."

"I'm still upset she sided with Winter over us!" Weiss said.

"Yeah. That's a bit crappy of her, but maybe she just doesn't want to go out there and see it again. Maybe she wasn't so much siding with Winter as clinging onto an excuse, you know? Like she doesn't want to admit what happened, so she goes with the easy way out. The curfew was only for you but she acts like it's for all of us."

Weiss' frustration faded a little, replaced with contemplation. "That would make sense. We always tend to exaggerate things that frighten us, so it would also explain why she's so sure we couldn't beat him."

"Exactly. Blake's just afraid – and maybe there's a good reason for that. We shouldn't push her." Running a hand through her hair, Yang sighed. "Now I feel bad for inviting her out the other day. Must have put her on the spot when she had to say no."

"I'm sure she didn't take it personally," Ruby said.

"Yeah, I know. Just something to keep in mind next time. Must have been pretty bad if it spooked her."

"The guy is a psycho," Weiss said dismissively. "What do you expect? He's murdered people in Atlas, Mistral and Vale now, like some it's some deadly game of bingo. I'm only glad that if Blake did see something, she was able to escape. I expect her Semblance would have helped there."

"We'd be the same," Yang said. "Ruby's speed, my resilience and your glyphs. We could run for it easy."

"Exactly!" Weiss crowed. Even Ruby was nodding. "I'm glad the two of you agree that Winter's curfew is unnecessary."

"I do, and you know what." Yang grinned. "How about we skip it?"

Weiss hesitated. "But she said she'd make it a rule."

"No, she said _Ironwood_ would make it a rule and that _he'd_ have the authority to do so once he got here. All she did was ask you to stick to it. And I didn't hear him say you had to stay. Did you?"

"No. But Blake threatened to tell if we did."

"And Blake is going to be busy until tonight. I'm not saying we go risk our lives chasing some killer. Just the three of us go for a walk around Vale, pick up some dust and come back. Prove to everyone we're not babies that need to be coddled. Once Blake realises that, she'll probably relax enough. Maybe not to go out herself, but she'll stop threatening to tattle on us if we so much as breathe a word about the city." Yang grinned and reached for her boots. "What do you say?"

"I don't know. I don't want Winter angry at me…"

"But you _do_ want to prove her wrong."

"Yes. Yes, I do! Fine!" Weiss huffed and pushed herself up. "And if anyone gets in trouble, it would only be me. The two of you aren't confined here like prisoners. Alright, let's go. I've been wanting to explore Vale since I arrived, and I'm not letting some psychopath frighten me out of doing so."

"Waheyyy! That's the spirit."

/-/

Jaune told his sisters he had to speak to someone and left them on the scroll talking to Juniper. He wiped a hand over his eyes as he left, only a little embarrassed for the happy years that'd been shed. Seeing Lavender, Coral, Hazel and Jade again was great – but seeing them on the verge of tears at being reunited with mom was better still. The call had been wild, loud and honestly hard to follow, but the babbling brook of voices was music to his ears all the same. He'd even seen Ilia in the back, protecting them as she'd promised to.

Neo was waiting at the door and looked caught somewhere between happiness and jealousy, watching Juniper fuss over someone else. Unsure if he liked that, he laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "If you want, you can go to Menagerie with them. Mom has a lot of children. I'm sure she'd be fine with one more."

The girl looked up at him and tilted her head to the side. She looked back to Juniper, then to him. Her head shook from side to side and she formed two letters with her fingers. A C and an A. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she wanted.

"You want your revenge on them too?" He wasn't surprised by her nod, but he was by the way she pointed at his mom. "You're worried they'll come back for her?" Another nod. "Me too. The sooner she's in Menagerie the better."

Neo mimed holding a cigarette in her mouth.

"I'll go ask him now. Once everyone is safe, I'll be going to Menagerie. You're welcome to come with me then if you want to." He saw her frown uncertainly. "You've got time to think. I'm not going to force you into something. We've all been through that."

Nodding, Neo stayed in the room to watch Juniper like a loyal hound. It wasn't a fair way to describe her, but it fit, and they'd all come out of those testing labs just changed. He could still remember the reports Blake had found and didn't have the confidence to ask his mother if they'd followed through on that. He wasn't sure he could handle the answer.

_It doesn't matter. She's safe now. Just got to get her out of Vale._

That had been easier when they'd been in the wilderness with as much access to White Fang controlled waters as they needed. Vale was on lockdown and looking for him. There was no way Chivalric Arms wouldn't be watching the routes in and out, and they knew who to look for. Juniper wouldn't be safe if he sent her alone.

He arrived in the living room of the safehouse in time to hear Roman on his scroll at what sounded like the tail end of a conversation. A dust robbery by the sounds of it. Or planning another one for the White Fang.

"-shipment coming in by the docks. This is a prime chance to make up on everything we've lost, and there's more than just dust we want to ship out. Can you get your side ready to retrieve it?" He listened to someone on the other end. "No, it won't be subtle but what do you expect? We can't shift that much dust without causing a scene. We'll get it done quick and trust in speed to get us out. Don't worry, I know how to set up a false lead."

Spotting him, Roman held up a hand for him to wait and finished the call. "Yes, that's fine. No, I'll handle the particulars. No offence, pal, but your recruits aren't exactly the best. Give me a few to work muscle. No, there shouldn't be any combat. I just need boots on the ground and hands to secure winches to containers. I can rent pilots unless you have some. You do? They any good? Alright, as long as they know what they're doing. I'll leave the rest to you."

Roman hung up and slid his scroll into his pocket.

"Another robbery?" Jaune asked. "I'm not excited about drawing attention to myself when mom is at risk."

"I know. I was thinking we could deal with both problems at once." Roman pulled up a map of Vale on his scroll and set it on the table, bringing Jaune over to take a look. It wasn't the full city but the north-west side and a stretch of the ocean. "There's a Schnee dust shipment coming in here today." He tapped the docks. "It's insurance buyout material to restock all the dust we stole. Most of the shops we hit are insured against theft for obvious reasons. Part of why we choose them. Keeps the economy running. They get dust, we steal, they get it back, they profit, they stay in business so we can steal from them again in the future."

"Right. I guess that's nice of you. Sort of…"

"It's efficient. No point ruining the people we make money off. Anyway, the White Fang still need their dust and I need to supply it – but you also need a way out of Vale for your mother, and that's not going to be through any legal channels. That's why I think this'll work out."

"You want to smuggle her out with the dust."

"Got it in one." Roman tapped a finger out to sea. "Tonight, there's going to be a faunus operated trawler out here. We're going to hit the docks here using three Bullheads. We secure three containers of SDC dust and take it out to sea to the trawler. It's secured there and taken to Menagerie. We put your mother on one of those Bullheads and we're set."

"Won't Atlas go after the trawler?" he asked.

"Nah. See, we're going to go out to sea and then divert back into the city with several decoy containers picked up from the trawler. That way it looks like we only went out to sea to avoid flying over the city. We then ditch the containers and it looks like we took the dust and ran. Meanwhile, the trawler – which is legally allowed to be in those waters – carries on to Menagerie."

It sounded like a good plan. "Are there any risks?"

"The docks may well be guarded, and we can't rule out the possibility of Chivalric Arms, but that's why we're going to be present and visible there. They'll come for us. As for security, I don't see us having any problems disabling them. Peacefully," he added. "This isn't the kind of job that needs a body count. This is going to be a quick thing. We sneak in, disable the guards and locate the SDC containers. Then we call in the Bullheads, hook them up and get them out. Done properly, they'll only be over the city for three to five minutes tops. It takes longer than that for anyone to mobilise a response, and if they do, it'll be to the docks. Not to chase Bullheads already going out to sea."

"Hmm." Jaune looked at the map and nodded. "I want mom on the first Bullhead."

"Fair enough. It's not like her weight is going to drag it down. First out, and then she'll be safe on her way to Menagerie. This is the best I can offer, and believe me, I've been looking. Junior had one or two smuggling routes we might have gotten her out through, but he says two have been shut down this week. Not by the authorities, either."

"Chivalric Arms…"

"Yeah. They know you're looking for a way out. They're posting guards. Probably some are undercover, so it wouldn't surprise me if any boat or airplane you got her on ended up mysteriously diverted."

"They'll stop at nothing." Jaune closed his eyes. "Fine. Tonight is… It's soon," he admitted. He'd only just gotten her back and now he was saying goodbye. It didn't seem fair. "But it's for the best. I can't let her stay here and be in danger."

"I get it." Roman pushed off the table and picked up the scroll. "We'll get her in a White Fang outfit and mask. Might as well have her fit in as a faunus. I'll make sure they know who she is, and since they're loyal to Adam and he's told them to help you, I can't imagine it'd be an issue. Spend some time with her, yeah? I can handle this."

"Thank you." Jaune favoured him with a rare smile. "I think I will."

"Does she know?" Roman asked.

"About what?"

"What you've done. The things you… well." Roman nodded to his gun. "You know."

He did. "No. I… I'm going to tell her. I don't know if she'll be – no, she won't be happy. I'm not sure if she'll blame me considering what CA did, but I know she won't be happy knowing I'm in that much danger." He laughed. "Guess I'm going to get a telling off."

"You sound like you want it."

"Maybe I do," he admitted. "Just having mom here able to yell at me like everything is normal." He smiled awkwardly. "It's nostalgic. Right now, she's too ecstatic to see me to ask who you are, what all this is and why I'm dealing with people like Cinder. I don't want to ruin that. I'll let her get her fill of talking to the girls, then open the can of worms."

"Fair enough." Roman picked at his cheek awkwardly. "I'll try and give you some privacy. There's booze in the fridge if you all need something to calm down over. Maybe leave out the number of people you've killed."

Maybe. Juniper was smart, though. Once she calmed down enough to think things through, she'd know something was wrong. Still, this way had worked so far, and he wasn't going to change with only Amber left to find.

Soon. They'd be a family again soon.

* * *

**Not much to comment. Cinder isn't willing to try and threaten Jaune into serving her with how dangerous his Semblance is, or perhaps she considers that he's already doing enough to disrupt Ozpin and Ironwood as it is.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 3****rd**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	26. Chapter 26

**Ignore the troll spamming guest reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 26**

* * *

Juniper cornered him later in the day. He'd been expecting it earlier, but the other girls had been on their scroll call until Roman's battery died, and he hadn't the heart to stop them. In truth, he was also a little afraid on what she'd have heard about him. Chivalric Arms hadn't let him have any news from the outside world, but then he hadn't been shuttled around because someone was coming to save him and killing everyone in their path.

"Jaune," she said sweetly. "Can we talk?"

"Of course." As if he could dent her anything right now. They'd never been touchy-feely, not because he had issues with it or her but because he'd been a teenager trying to look cool back in Ansel, but now he took her hand and shivered at how thin her fingers felt, how easily he could pull her over to one of Roman's sofas and sit her down. "Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?"

"Neo already made me some cereal and toast," she said. "That sweet girl. You could do worse than her, you know?"

He didn't know whether to stammer or to laugh at the random line. "Mom!"

"I know. I know. Not the best situation for romance, is it?" She laid her hand atop his and smiled. "I'm alright, Jaune. I feel stronger already for being away from them. Weight can be put on." Her bony hand squeezed his. "All these problems can be fixed."

"Now that you're free."

"Not that I'm free." Her head tilted to the side, eyes boring into his. He knew better than to look away, even if he was afraid what she might find. "It's strange," she whispered. "I've heard so much of what you've done. I didn't know what to imagine on seeing you but…" Her face softened. "You've barely changed."

"I'm a killer," he rasped.

"And yet you're still falling apart the second I look at you." Her teasing tone had him looking away indignantly. "Always the mommy's boy. Oh, are you embarrassed now?" A finger poked at his cheek and she laughed delightedly. "You really are the same. My little boy. I'm… I'm relieved. More than you can know. I expected the worst."

"That I'd be a violent maniac?"

"No. Not you. More… More that you would be consumed. By vengeance, bloodlust or the satisfaction of taking them down. You're not, though. Mercury and Emerald let me read up on you. Really, they let me do anything, but I wanted to know more about what my son was doing. Do you know what I felt reading that?"

"Disgust?"

Her hand swatted his arm. "Jaune," she said harshly. "I was in the same situation you were. They murdered my husband, stole my children and experimented on them!" Her voice took on a hysterical edge. "P-Please don't turn away from me like this."

He was such an idiot. A selfish idiot! He twisted on the sofa and wrapped his arms around her, welcoming her hug and squeezing her tight. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes watering. "I was worried about what you'd think."

It didn't excuse him. Juniper had just come out of hell. None of the girls had been in one piece that soon and neither had he. If anything, having Lavender to look after helped him because it let him push his panic attacks away in favour of caring for her. _Mom doesn't need me being defensive and pushing her away. What was I thinking? _

"I love you," he said, smiling into her shoulder as she squeezed him as tight as she could. "I love you mom."

"I love you too!" She was crying. "A-And I don't care what you've done. How could I? Every day I wanted someone to save me. I dreamed of your father – oh, poor Nicky." Her voice cracked. "I dreamed of me becoming strong enough as well. I blamed myself. If only I'd trained to be a huntress, I could have fought as well."

"Or you would have died with dad."

"Yes. Yes, I know that's the truth but locked in those cold cells it was all I had for comfort."

"You're not there anymore," he said. "And you're never going back."

Sniffling, she wiped her face in his neck, rubbing her nose and cold tears onto his skin. She seemed to be coming back under control, if only because her brief sniffles didn't precede more tears. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I… I had to get that out."

"It's fine. I'm crying too."

He was. They were running down his face in fat tracks.

"Y-You baby…"

"Come on, mom. I get enough with Jade and Hazel being on my ass for that."

He laughed and she did too. It unlocked something and they both collapsed into one another, hysterically laughing and shaking so hard it made them both cry again, and this time be unable to take care of it. They sagged back onto the sofa, breaking apart and wiping at their eyes. Juniper's face was red, her eyes sore and glistening, but her lips were drawn into such a wide smile that the tear tracks were forced to run around them.

"Goodness," she gasped. "It feels like forever since I laughed like that. It – It wasn't even that funny!"

"I'm a master of comedy," he replied, wiping his own eyes clean.

"You're a master of something." Her hand fell to his knee and she smiled peacefully. "Whatever you've done, Jaune, whatever you feel you've had to do, I'm never going to judge you for it. You saved them. Lavender, Jade, Hazel and Coral – they're so happy in Menagerie. And if I'm not reading things wrong, Lavender and Ilia seem rather close."

"I got that impression myself."

"Is she a nice girl?"

"Wonderful," he promised. "Ilia knows the truth and would defend Lavender until death."

"Let's hope it won't come to that. I can't wait to meet her. Apparently, she's teaching Lavender to fish today, then they're going to the beach and dinner after. It sounds so tropical. Oh, I hope they're all remembering to wear sunscreen."

"Considering Coral is the oldest there, I somehow doubt it."

"Me too." Juniper sighed, but it was too light to be unhappy. "I'll have to take care of their sunburn, I suppose. And yours…?" she asked hopefully.

"Once I find Amber. And once I know for sure that Saphron and Sable are safe."

Juniper's mouth opened and closed. He knew she wanted to take him away from any danger and yet to do so would be to abandon Amber to the same horrors they'd all been through, and they both knew that couldn't be allowed. As helpless as he'd felt at times, he couldn't begin to imagine how helpless his mom felt right now.

He could fight. She couldn't do anything.

"I'll find her," he said, taking her hand. "Don't you worry. We've all got our parts to play. I can bring us back together, but it's going to take you to help everyone recover. I mean, I've left them to Coral for crying out loud! They're going to be scarred for life."

Juniper giggled and pulled his hand into her lap, holding onto it with both hands. "You're right. I'll do my part as best I can." Both her thumbs rubbed over the back of his hand and she looked at him intently. "You just make sure to come back in one piece yourself. And look after Neo as well. I'd have gone mad if it wasn't for that poor girl, and she's been through things as bad as we have. Sometimes worse."

"Worse…?"

"They wanted to break her. Of all the horrible things they did to us, at least it was limited to our bodies. They wanted to destroy her mind, and they weren't kind about it. Torture. Electrocution. Suffocation. I remember hearing her screams, Jaune, until one day… one day she didn't scream anymore." Juniper clenched her eyes shut. "I remember thinking that it might have been better if she died there, how at least she'd escaped them that way. And then she came back, silent. She never spoke again."

"They're evil. Pure evil."

"They are. I'm sure it's done with some reason – profit or the national interest – but that only makes it worse. I even think I was a part of her torture. They let her develop a bond on me, a dependency."

"With the intent to break it, and her, later." He shook his head. "Is there no low these monsters won't stoop to?"

"They didn't see us as people, Jaune. We were test subjects. How often do scientists care for the mice they experiment on? It was the same here. I don't think they lost any sleep once they convinced themselves we weren't real people."

"They deserve to die."

"But they don't deserve your time!" Juniper pulled his hand, and his attention, to her. "I know this will sound ridiculous, Jaune, but you need to be the bigger person and ignore them."

His jaw dropped. "W-What…?"

"Not ignore that they have Amber. Save her, save everyone you can, but once you have and once we're a family again, let them go. Don't dedicate your life to ending them or develop some need for vengeance. If you do, you'll never be free of them." Her other hand cupped his cheek. "That's a line you can't afford to cross."

His anger dissipated. The tension drained out of him. Mom wasn't saying he had to forgive or ignore the things they'd done, only that he should keep the objective in mind. "That's all I want to do anyway," he promised. "Once I've saved them, I'm coming straight to Menagerie. They… They're monsters, but so is Atlas. Let them have one another. I don't care as long as everyone is okay."

"That's it. You _and_ Neo," she urged.

"I'll look after her as well. If she even needs me to." He swallowed. "Mom. Are… Are you…?" He wanted to ask if she was okay with what he'd done, but the question would have been insulting. She was his mother. "I'm worried about how easy it's becoming," he said instead. "Killing." He waited for her to flinch. She didn't. "I think… I don't know. I don't think I _like_ it, but there are times I feel a rush and it's not just the adrenaline. I feel _satisfied_."

"Have you ever hurt someone who isn't working for Chivalric Arms…?"

Jaune winced. "Define hurt…"

"Killed, Jaune. Have they died?"

"Not because of me. Except… There was a huntsman and a huntress." He swallowed. "They attacked us and were going to take us back to Atlas. I had no choice."

"Did you enjoy that time?"

"No!" he fired back. "I hated it!"

"Then I don't think it's something to worry about yet." Juniper squeezed his hand again. "As long as you're making sure your anger is directed toward the people who hurt you, it's okay. Not great," she admitted, "But not unnatural either. Just… try to keep it contained to what is… I don't want to say `fair`, but maybe `warranted` is a better choice. You don't want to hurt someone who doesn't really deserve it."

"I've tried not to. There've been people who died because of me, but I've only _killed_ people who work for Chivalric Arms. I just… Sometimes when they keep me away from you and I got angry and I feel like I enjoyed it."

"Jaune, you _feel_ like you enjoyed it. That doesn't mean you did. And even _if_ you did, it's not something to blame yourself for. You didn't choose to be here. None of us did. If they'd only left us alone, we'd all be living peacefully in Ansel. They killed Nicholas. They struck the first blow. I don't think anyone will blame you striking back."

"I… Yeah. That's what I've been thinking. I was just… It feels like Dad would do this better."

"Nicholas was a huntsman, Jaune. He would have had the training to do this. You don't. And I think that if he was here, he'd be proud of you. I'm proud of you."

The words hit harder than he expected.

"T-Thank you," he managed to choke out.

"Just be careful you don't step too far," she said. "One foot across the line is alright but take two and you might find yourself unable to walk back. Promise me you'll remember that. Promise me you'll do your best only to take the lives of those that deserve it."

"I promise."

/-/

"This day is sensational!"

"Y-Yeah. It sure is…"

Yang spared a glance for her sister. She didn't know how Ruby had done it, but she'd managed to pick up a friend even more awkward than herself – and in record time, too. Maybe Ruby came with a radar for people with no social experience.

Penny seemed nice enough. That was the only way she could think to describe the girl. Nice. Weird and quirky, but nice. A little stunted on the social side of things, but nice. Not – as harsh as it sounded – someone Yang would have normally been interested in befriending, but someone perfect for Ruby. A person who wouldn't be put off whenever Ruby started rambling about weapons or ammo cartridge modification. At least, that was her excuse for dumping the girl on Ruby.

"Any news from Blake yet?" Weiss asked.

"None yet. I figure she's still in that meeting with Ironwood. That or she's plotting our demise."

Weiss snorted. The normally prickly girl looked to be in a much better mood now that she was out in the city and not confined to Beacon. Or maybe it was knowing that not everyone thought she needed an escort every hour of the day. Yang couldn't even begin to imagine how annoying that must have been. Taiyang was protective, but he knew they could take care of themselves and wasn't afraid to let them go out and grow.

A few shopping bags in hand, some fresh air and a dinner at the mall had everyone in better moods. Hence Ruby skipping blindly into a girl rounding the corner and bowling her over and making a new and slightly clingy friend out of the deal.

_Personally, I'm leaning toward a disability,_ Yang thought as she watched Penny interact – and she used the term loosely - with her sister. _Nothing too serious since she's out on her own and handling herself. Maybe a minor learning disorder_. All in all, Penny didn't seem too in need of help, just a crash course in social interaction.

And hey, so did Ruby. Convenient timing.

"We should probably swing back to Beacon soon," Yang said with an eye toward the sky. It was getting dark. "If we're lucky, we might be able to get back before your sister or Blake realises we're missing."

"Wasn't the whole point of this to prove them wrong?" Weiss asked.

"Well yeah, but if we can get away with it for nothing, we might as well. We can always prove a point next time."

"Hm. I guess so. I'd half a mind to stay out and make Winter panic, but considering she's in charge of a military unit…"

"Yeah. I've never been hunted down and arrested by the army before," Yang said. "Let's not try that out now. Dad would freak." Raising her voice, she asked, "What about you, Penny? Don't mean to call this short and all, but do you have somewhere we can take you?"

"I am staying at Beacon!"

"Huh. Really? I've never seen you there."

"It is a new development, friend Yang. I am here for the Vytal Festival."

Weiss looked at her in shock. "You're a huntress!?"

"I am combat ready!"

Huh. Honestly, Yang couldn't blame Weiss the rude question. She hadn't pegged Penny as a huntress either. It wasn't the mannerisms because Ruby had proven social skill wasn't required. It was more the way Penny held herself, or the way she didn't. There was no muscle definition on her legs or arms, no awareness or instinctive movements that suggested a combat background and no weapon in sight. Penny looked, moved and acted like she didn't have a single bit of training.

_Weird. Even dad favours one side and moves a little differently, and that's with him trying to rein it in. Penny looks like a stiff breeze would knock her over. _If she was here for the Festival, though, she had to be good. Maybe her Semblance created weapons for her and compensated for the less physical training. Some people were best at range or in support roles.

"That makes things easy!" Ruby said. "We can all hitch a ride back together."

"That sounds like a sensational idea, Ruby!

_It sounds like the only idea,_ Yang thought with a tiny grin. Unless they wanted to walk through the Emerald Forest, that was. Still, Penny's cheer was infectious, and it gave Ruby a chance to take the lead in social interactions, which would hopefully make her more comfortable with them. _Maybe this is what she needed all along. Not to be surrounded by people better than her, but people who are worse._

Ruby could do social stuff perfectly fine; it was just that she didn't believe it about herself. Classic case of anxiety and self-doubt. "Sounds like a plan," Yang said. "You up for that, Weiss, or did you want to stop by anywhere else?"

"No. I have everything I needed. Let's go before Blake tattles on us."

"Heh. And here I thought the biggest tattletale in Team RWBY would be you."

"Hmph. Just because I'm home school doesn't mean I'm a teacher's pet."

"Do not worry, Weiss," Penny said. "I was home schooled as well and came out of it both combat and social ready!"

Yang coughed desperately into her fist, turning away as Weiss looked like she'd not just sucked on a lemon, but had it injected directly into her veins.

"That is… Thank you, Penny. It's nice to have your… support…"

"Yeah, Weiss. Snrk. You two, ksk, are peas in a pod."

"Xiao-Long, I shall freeze you to the spot if you don't stop laughing."

_Crack!_

The loud sound tore through the air and had three quarters of them flinching. The distant echoes of it receded slowly, but not before they'd all turned their eyes toward the north. After years of training, much of which involved firearms, there could be no mistaking that sound.

"Was that…?"

"A gunshot," Penny noted, proving her own experience. "It was a small calibre firearm, likely a standard-issue sidearm. 9mm."

The rest of them exchanged worried looks.

/-/

"Idiot!" Jaune drove his knee into the security guard's lower back, pinning him down as he wrenched the man's hands back and let one of the White Fang members tie them. The discarded gun was still smoking beside the man's head. "What part of put the gun down you're surrounded did you not understand?"

"Y-You're Jaune Arc!" the man babbled. "You'll kill me!"

"So what, you thought shooting me first to piss me off would improve your chances?"

The man didn't get a chance to answer as the White Fang member assisting him unrolled a bundle of duct-tape and slapped a hefty chunk over the man's mouth. He then took the guard away, dragging him off to the portacabin nearby where they'd be storing them. Jaune stood, growling under his breath as he turned back to check on Juniper.

Neo had her protected. The small girl was already in front of her, but luckily the shot had been aimed for him and had impacted his aura, bouncing off into a nearby wooden crate. No damage, which was fortunate. If the man hit his mom, he'd be dead.

"Jaune, are you okay?" Juniper asked.

"I'm fine, mom. Aura protected me."

"He – He shot you! Even after you told him you wouldn't harm him." Even if she'd heard of everything, this was the first time she'd directly seen evidence of it. The shock seemed to be getting to her. "He shot my baby boy..."

"Can you blame him?" Roman stepped between them, swinging his cane with an aggrieved look on his face. "The media has painted such a shitty picture of you that people won't even believe you when you offer to spare their lives. He probably figured he was dead either way and that his only chance was to kill you."

That would explain the wild look in the man's eyes before he opened fire. Jaune sighed and ran his fingers over the point of impact. While aura kept it from really hurting him, his left shoulder felt stiff and there was probably a bruise forming under his stolen jacket. He cracked his neck to work the muscles there and rolled his shoulders. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things.

"They're all dealt with anyway," Roman said. "Is our transport on its way?"

"They're coming in now," a masked faunus answered. "We just need to mark which containers we're taking."

"Do they know about my mother?" Jaune demanded.

The faunus nodded. "I spoke to both the teams involved and the faunus on the trawler. Everyone knows about her and that she's vouched for by both Adam Taurus and Sienna Khan. There won't be any problems, sir."

Sir. Roman didn't get that respect from the White Fang, but then Roman wasn't afraid to call them animals either, so he probably deserved the cold shoulder. Thanking the faunus, Jaune left them to identify the containers they were taking and moved over to his mother. Neo smirked his way and stepped aside, letting him take Juniper's hands.

"Sorry you had to see that."

"See what? He wouldn't listen and you still spared him." Pushing her White Fang mask up, Juniper leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You don't have to act like I'm going to be afraid of what you've done. Anything you do can't be as scary as the day you crawled out my body."

"Ugh. Mom. I didn't need that image."

Giggling, she petted his cheek. "That's the point. It broke the tension, didn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess it did." He heard the sound of engines in the distance. The Bullheads that had been awaiting the signal by the trawler were approaching. From here, speed was of the essence, and that meant they didn't have any time to waste. "This is it," he said sadly. "Goodbye."

"For now." Another quick kiss and her mask was pushed down. "I'll talk to you tonight if I can get any signal. If not, it's three days journey to Menagerie and then we'll talk. Look after yourself. Neo, can you look after my baby boy as well?" The diminutive girl nodded firmly. "Thank you, sweetie. Hah." She let out a long breath. "It feels too soon to leave you. We only got to see each other again last night."

"I know." He held her and felt her hands rub over his back. "Sorry it's so rushed but I don't want Chivalric Arms getting any chance to find you. The sooner you're safe, the sooner I can find Amber and meet back up with you."

Juniper smiled beneath her mask. "Then I'd best stop holding you back." She drew back but then lunged in for one last hug. "I love you. I'm so proud of you."

Jaune sniffed and held her tight. "Love you too. Look after the girls for me."

Nodding, she hurried off toward the small group of faunus waiting by the first SDC-marked container. He could see the aircraft flying in now, and the faunus were busy securing hooks to the four corners which would then be attached to the Bullhead by thick steel cables. They'd look after her and then Ilia would keep her safe in Menagerie. This was for the best, for all it hurt now.

"Argh!"

A loud crash followed by a short yell dragged his and Neo's attention off to the south-east side of the docks.

They paused, listening, but nothing else sounded. Several White Fang members had gone that way prior to secure and watch the main entrance.

_Chivalric Arms…?_ _How did they know so soon?_

Neo moved but Jaune caught her shoulder and pulled her back. "Protect Juniper. Keep her hidden. I'll check it out."

The girl nodded and skirted back to his mom, who would be safer than he could keep her under Neo's illusions. Charging toward the point the noise came from, Roman met him halfway, cane gripped in one hand and cigar clenched between his teeth.

"What now?" the thief growled. "I swear, if those idiots have knocked a container on themselves, I'm going to-"

They rounded the corner of the brightly coloured containers in time to see a faunus thrown back. The armoured woman skidded to a stop at their feet, groaning and holding her chest. Jaune and Roman looked past them in time to see the final member dragged down and knocked out by a blonde in a brown jacket with a purple sash. Beside here were three other girls, none of which he recognised.

One of which Roman apparently did. "Oh come on. Red!" he called out. "I think it's past your bedtime. Why don't you trundle on home before you get in trouble?"

_Red? This is the girl that put Roman in prison._

She didn't look like much. Short, pale and not nearly as imposing as Roman himself was – but she was holding a scythe bigger than the both of them and _covered_ in mechanical parts. Huntress. Or one in training, but that still put her on a level far more dangerous than the average person. _Fuck. We don't need this._

"Torchwick!" the girl shouted, pointing. Her face fell soon after. "A-And Arc," she said miserably. Unafraid, he noted. More… bothered. Nervous. "What are _you_ doing here?"

_Saving my mother._

"None of your business."

He stepped forward, glancing back over one shoulder. The Bullheads were coming in – two choosing to land and one coming a little further. The doors on the side opened and White Fang jumped out. Reinforcements. They landed behind Roman and him, a good ten in total. Ten against four should have been good odds, but he'd seen what Adam and Blake could do to normal people.

These four had to be from Beacon. A team of huntresses in training. That made them dangerous. His thumb slid over Mors, flicking off the safety, but his mind fell back to Juniper. Lines to cross. Harm to those who deserved it, not those dragged into his conflict with Chivalric Arms.

"This isn't any of your business," he repeated. "Leave and we won't need to come to blows. We'll take three containers of dust and go – and you can have the hostages kept in the portacabins on site. None of them are hurt."

The Schnee, recognisable by her hair, lowered her rapier. "Hostages…?"

"That's right," Roman said, sauntering up. He looked a lot more confident now the odds were on their side. Typical of him. "You don't want to cause any problems that might put those fine people at risk, and we're not looking to cost Beacon a team. How about we all agree to let this go. The dust is insured. No one is really losing anything."

"You are Jaune Arc." It was the redhead that spoke, staring at him with unusual intensity.

His fingers tightened around Mors' grip. "I am."

"General Ironwood wishes to speak with you."

_Ironwood?_ Tch. Of course he would. Atlas wanted him back under their thumb so he could be the next weapon of the Kingdom. Broken down to use for munitions or, if they couldn't get it out of him, forcefully taking his seed to artificially breed more test subjects.

"Funny," he spat. "I want to talk with General Ironwood too. He has something that isn't his. A few somethings." It was a fight not to shoot. They were out his range and his Semblance wasn't activated. More than that, he couldn't kill them. They were innocent. "You can tell him I'll come speak to him soon enough, but for now you should go."

"Or what?" the blonde challenged. "You'll make us leave?"

"Yes."

His quiet confidence had them hesitating.

"I'd listen to him," Roman warned. "He's killed huntsmen older than you."

He didn't deny it. This wasn't what anyone wanted, but if they were going to put Juniper at risk so soon to her rescue, he _would_ stop them. _That doesn't mean I have to kill them. I promised mom. I won't go back on that._ If acting the killer would make them back down, then it was worth doing. Jaune stepped forward, walking toward them with Mors held out to his side, barrel to the ground.

"I am Jaune Arc. I am Null. I suggest you retreat now."

"General Ironwood should be alerted," the redhead said. "We should retreat and await his assistance." Jaune didn't interrupt her. That was all they wanted, and they'd be long gone before Ironwood could mobilise.

"Tch. He doesn't look that tough." The blonde scowled his way but didn't move to attack. Her whispers reached his ears regardless. "This sucks, but I guess it's the best bet. Can't attack without putting those hostages at risk anyway."

Good. This was good. Jaune relaxed his shoulders.

"Yes. We shall retreat an- and…" The redhead flinched.

No, it was more than that. The girl with the orange hair buckled, stepping back with one foot and clutching a hand to her face. The other girls cried out, thinking she'd been shot, and for a second Jaune did as well. There was no blood though, and no gunshot. It looked more like she'd suddenly been hit with a dizzy spell.

"Penny?" Red cried. "Penny, are you okay?"

"I am – I am combat ready, friend Ruby." The girl stood up again. She looked dizzy, confused, but quickly shook her head. Violently shook it. Less like she was trying to clear cobwebs from her mind and more like she was trying to smash her head on a wall. "I am – I am…" Her eyes closed and opened again. "I am moving to incapacitate Subject 000."

Jaune's eyes widened.

"MOVE!"

Roman's cry was his only warning. Jaune hurled himself to the left mere seconds before the girl rocketed forward, cutting through the space he'd occupied and lunging so far her fist impacted into and _through_ a metal container. Her _back_ opened up, spilling out blades that fanned around her like the petals of a flower.

"Get her!" Roman shouted to the White Fang. "Hold her off!"

"Penny!" the huntress in red yelled, charging in so fast she became a blur.

Jaune reacted instantly, slamming Null into place. The girl was a streak of red right up until she stepped within range of him, at which point _everything_ slowed. Roses pelted toward him in an explosion, but the girl tripped, stumbled and went spinning across the floor like a stone skimmed across water. Screaming in pain and shock, she skipped past him and slammed into another cargo container.

"RUBY!"

The blonde was almost on him, fist cocked back. Jaune cut his Semblance off and brought his hands up to block the punch. Her fist struck his crossed wrists but the yellow weapon on hers bucked and fired into him, launching an explosive blast that hurled him back. He crashed into the top of a container, buckling over it with his legs dangling down and his back leaning on the metal.

"Weiss, check on Ruby and deal with Torchwick. I'll hold the serial killer off!"

"Got it!"

Groaning, Jaune rolled onto his front and looked back. He couldn't pick his mom out of all the White Fang members in grey, but Neo stood out, helping one specific member onto the first Bullhead and pushing her gently inside. It already had its cables hooked into a container. Safe. Juniper was safe and loaded on.

The shout from behind warned him to roll aside, clambering up onto the container as the blonde huntress drove a fist into where he'd just been. Rolling onto his back again, he kicked at her face and used it as a springboard to get onto his feet and run along the top. Close distance was bad for him, especially if she used shotguns. He couldn't take a shot with his Semblance or she'd be close enough to tag him too, and her punches would shatter bone.

_Not to mention I'd kill her. Self-defence is one thing, but this girl is a student at Beacon. The other…_

He looked down to the orange-haired girl. No one knew him as Subject 000 other than Chivalric Arms, and she was _tearing_ her way through the White Fang mercilessly. Long knives twirled around her, wielded almost like a round shield that she would thrust and sent into people, cutting through armour and drawing blood.

The White Fang weren't trained soldiers. They were volunteer recruits. While some were thrown back mostly in one piece, the damage being done to them would still be almost fatal. This shouldn't have happened! They'd been about to retreat!

"Get back here!" the blonde roared. "What did you do to my sister!?"

"Nothing!" he roared, jumping to a new container. "So fuck off!"

Buckshot tagged his leg left and spilled him down off the container. He tucked his shoulder and landed as best he could, rolling up in time to aim Mors and fire off three shots. Rather than dodge them, the girl barrelled through all three, trusting her aura.

_I can't use my Semblance here. I'd kill her in an instant!_

"We don't have to fight!" he said. "Take your team and go. There's no reason for this."

The girl ducked and threw a haymaker for his head. Jaune hopped back but she'd clearly planned for it, switching the blow into another step forward and driving her other foot into his stomach. Spit flew from his mouth as he was flung back, slamming into a metal container.

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" she quipped. "You're not as tough as you're made out to be. You don't even know how to read a feint." Her fist swung and he tried to block it. The sheer force pushed through his arm, snapping it back. She followed through and struck him in the stomach, bending him double over her fist. "And you've got no idea how to handle yourself in a fight."

F-Fuck! He gripped onto her wrist, trying to think of _something_ to do. The knee _crunching_ into his face didn't help, especially when his entire vision went black for a fraction of a second. He came back in time to catch her fist to his temple.

The world swayed. Sound winked out for a second and he stumbled back, drooling spit or maybe even blood. His hand cupped his mouth and came away bright red. Definitely blood. Fuck. This was why he didn't let people get in close.

"Different game when you're killing innocent people, isn't it?" she taunted. "Not so tough now you're against someone who can fight back."

"F-Fuck you," he slurred.

"Sorry, bub." She aimed her shotgun gauntlets at him. "You're not my type."

Jaune burst through a container full of chocolate bars and came spinning out the other side, tossing wrapped confectionary in every direction. He landed on all fours, dazed, shaken and on the cusp of consciousness.

"Kid!" Roman shouted. He was being engaged by both the huntress in red and the Schnee. "A little help here!"

The White Fang were doing no better. One charged the orange-haired girl, but she flung her blades to his left and right, forcing him to pick which side to defend as they converged on him. He tried to throw himself back but ended up tagged, picked up and slammed into a container. He crumpled to the base, unconscious or worse.

One shot. He could end this with one shot.

"_Promise me you'll do your best only to take the lives of those that deserve it."_

Damn it! Wasn't this deserving? The bitch was ripping his ass open and that made this self-defence, except that he was sure Juniper wouldn't see it that way, especially when she was just protecting her idiot friend who charged in. Jaune staggered to his feet in time for the blonde to explode through the crates, fist cocked back.

He ducked as best he could, and this time dodged to the follow-up as well. He tried to bring his gun around, but she flicked his wrist aside with the back of her own, grabbing his collar and driving him back against the chain link fence.

"I won't do it!" he snarled. "You won't make me!"

"Do what?" she taunted. "Bleed all over me?"

He gritted his teeth and forced all his aura forward in preparation for the blow. "I won't kill you. You won't… make me the monster here."

"Kill me!?" The huntress burst out laughing. "Pal, I don't know if you're a little gone in the head, but you can't not notice how this is going. Torchwick isn't gonna last against Ruby and Weiss, and you're not the hot shit Blake made you out to be."

Cold settled on him. Cold as harsh as winter.

"W-What did you just say…?"

"Guess we'll show Blake and Ironwood we're not to be underestimated by bringing you in. You'll answer for your crimes in Atlas."

The labs. The cells. The tests. Ice gripped his heart and _squeezed_ it tight.

No. He wouldn't go back.

He wasn't going back.

The roar of the Bullhead's engines sounded over the combat. The three aircraft, stolen dust in tow, rose up over the containers and angled themselves out toward the open ocean. The blonde swore and tried to give chase, but his hands gripped doggedly to her elbows, refusing to let go. He'd have this victory. No one would stop him saving his family.

"No!" she growled. "Shit!"

"Penny!" the red huntress yelled. "The Bullheads!"

Penny paused and looked up, throwing aside a White Fang grunt. "I see them!" she said loudly. Two more blades suddenly shot out her back, impacting into a brick warehouse and hauling her back on two almost invisible wires. The girl flipped and landed far away from any White Fang, bringing her blades into a spinning pattern before her.

What was she-?

Green light formed in the centre of her spinning blades. It grew and built as the knives angled inwards, forming a tunnel or, he realised in horror, the barrel of a gun. Jaune screamed, pulling desperately away from the blonde.

"NO!"

"Whoah. Not so fast, buster!" The blonde yanked him back and fixed a hand on his throat.

It was too late anyway.

A beam of iridescent green light scythed through the still, Vale air. It slashed through one Bullhead, the second and then the third, sweeping out the other side before dissipating. In slow motion, the three aircraft slid apart, red hot metal visible along with misty blood and bodies, a fraction of an instant before all three detonated in great balls of flame.

"The White Fang's retreat has been neutralised," the girl said proudly.

Jaune Arc screamed.

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**I don't normally spoil but… no, those Bullheads were not illusions. There wasn't a magical fourth, and Neo did not mysteriously decide to stop Juniper getting on one of them. She is dead. Cut down by Penny as most of the White Fang in the show within those Bullheads would have been. Without aura or training, she wouldn't have had any chance of survival.**

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**Next Chapter: 10****th**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	27. Chapter 27

**Last chapter had over 420 reviews, lol, most calling for either blood, no blood or my head for killing an OC. I'm pleased with the reaction it all got, but the downside is that whenever you have a chapter like that, you just know the next can only satisfy half of the readers.**

**No pressure, lol.**

**Warnings ahead for… well… violence.**

**I'd normally avoid warnings because I see them as spoilers, but let's be honest - if this chapter was all Ironwood and Blake having an interview and then a PoV of Cinder, Mercury and Em, and it ended without violence? Well, I might get even more than 420 reviews for the chapter, but most of them would require a rather strong swearing filter. **

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**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 27**

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The shrill scream all around them, reaching a crescendo upon which it broke with a twang, dying off with a painful gurgle and the tinging of tinnitus in Yang's ears. The man she had hold of slumped, turning into a sack of potatoes in her hands, heavy and drooping. For a short moment she stared at him, wondering if she'd have to explain how and why someone died in her hands. Something sweet and sickening began to work its way up her throat. Had he died? Was she holding a dead body?

There was an almost crushing sense of relief when Jaune Arc released a shuddering breath, his left hand coming up to weakly clutch at her elbow, extended as it was with both her hands pinning him to the cold metal of an SDC-marked cargo container.

He whispered something she didn't hear. The sound of the explosion and his scream were still ringing around in her ears and the Bullhead's crash landing wasn't any better since it struck down against concrete and metal, twisting and groaning like a falling building. A final fitful explosion went up in the distance along with a billowing cloud of blackish smoke. His lips moved, some breath coming out with a tint of a lowered voice. Yang's eyes narrowed and she leaned in, tilting her head slightly to bring one ear close enough to hear.

"You win…"

"Hah-?" Yang wasn't sure she'd heard that correctly but he said it again, tone just as broken, repeating the word like a mantra and almost more to himself than to her. He'd obviously taken one knock too many in their scuffle. "Damn right I win. You're going to a cold cell in Atlas, bub. I've no idea what they'll do to you over there but good riddance."

"You win…"

_Maybe he really has gone nuts,_ she thought. "Yeah. Yeah. I heard you the first time."

"You win…" This time he looked up and Yang was caught, lost in the most dizzying array of colours she'd ever seen in a person's eyes. Gold, yellow, blue, green, purple and red, all mixing and swirling together like paint whisking down a sink's drain. "You win," he whispered. "I'll do it. I'll kill you."

Yang's eyes widened. "What-?"

Cold agony ripped through her left arm and Yang gasped, eyes jerking down to her left arm where the blade of a knife was jutting up out the inside of her elbow. The pain took a second to filter past the shock but when it hit, it hit hard and she screamed reflexively, releasing his collar and stumbling back.

Jaune Arc ripped it free, pulling his gun out from under her arm where she could see a bloody knife sticking out from the bottom of the grip. She hadn't noticed it, but even then it shouldn't have punctured through her aura like that. He swept his arm over both of hers to knock her grip off him, then twisted his fist back, swinging the knife-gun around towards her face. Eyes watering from the stinging pain and angry tears, Yang brought her right hand up to catch and deflect the weapon, pouring every drop of aura she had to her hand. She'd stopped Ruby's scythe full swing before and that had the added benefit of her sister's speed adding to the force. It would be enough!

The knife hit and Yang didn't let out even a single word. All she could do was stare at the bloody tip that had stopped an inch away from her eye, stained red with the blood running down the back of her hand.

Feeling struck a half second later.

"Yarghhhhhhhh!"

The blood ran down her wrist and arm and Yang tried to swing her left, only for it to not respond to her commands. _The tendons are cut_, her mind supplied, even as it faltered as to why her Semblance wasn't kicking in. She instinctively activated Ember Celica and caused the metal gauntlets to expand over her hands.

It was the worst mistake.

Training had never accounted for an incident like this and the metal plates of Ember Celica slid out over the back of her hand, catching the knife jutting out from her right and forcing it up. Muscle and skin ripped like parchment and Yang watched in slow motion as the blade cut up between her middle and ring finger, sliding between her fingers and out her hand with a spray of blood. It was her turn to scream, at first from the terror and then from the pain when it finally hit. She fell back clutching her right hand to her chest, tears streaming down her face as blood flowed everywhere.

The high-pitched scream pierced through the night, a wail of pure agony.

"Yang!" Ruby shouted.

The crack of Crescent Rose sounded to her left and Jaune Arc's eyes flooded back to blue an instant before he was struck and launched away from her. Yang didn't care to see if he was alive – the very moment he was out the way, she staggered to her feet and fled, left arm draping at her side and right clutched to her chest to stem the bleeding. Her aura trickled back and over the injury to dull the pain. Eyes stinging, she wondered why it hadn't helped in the first place.

"You wanted this!" a wild cry behind her echoed. "Well congratulations. You win! I'll be the monster you've always wanted me to be!"

Yang's heart raced. She took a right and ducked behind a container, pressing her back to the cold metal and forcing her legs to keep moving, sliding her along with a trail of blood left on the hard concrete. He was coming. He was coming for her. He was going to kill her. Yang bit her lip to stop a pained cry that might give her away. If she could just get to Ruby and Weiss, she'd be fine. They could take him. Or run.

Running sounded like a good idea.

_Fuck, Penny, we should have left when we had the chance! Why did you charge in?_ A wave of nausea overcame her and she had to stop, banging her head back against the container as she caught her breath. Shock. There hadn't been enough blood loss for it to be a problem yet, but her body wasn't coping with the sudden shock to its system. _Stay calm. Stay calm, girl. You've been hurt before._

Loud footsteps echoed behind her as Jaune Arc moved slowly among the containers.

"Where are you…?" he sang in a manic tone. "Do you think you can hide? That's a tall ask when you're leaving me a nice red trail to follow."

Yang's eyes snapped down to the floor and the blood she'd left everywhere. She heard the click of a hammer cocking back and threw herself to the right and along the container, narrowly dodging the bullet that smashed through two layers of sheet metal and pierced out where her chest had been. Hitting the floor, she tried to find her footing, only to curl up around her badly bleeding hand and whimper.

His footsteps carried him casually around the front side. A clip was discarded from his weapon, clacking down before her eyes as he retrieved a second and slowly slid it into the magazine, pulling the slide back with an ominous clack. She'd faced Grimm, fought Ursa, risked her life in the wilds of Patch, but never in her life had she so completely known her life was over as when she looked up into his cold unfeeling eyes. Only one thought came to mind, one bitter and pathetic thought.

_I don't want to die._

"YANG!"

The cry came from above and the killer tutted, keeping the gun on her but looking away in time to see Weiss approaching over the top of the containers, bounding from one glyph to another. The heiress crouched and leapt off one, forming another in the above Jaune Arc, Myrtenaster already spinning through its rounds in one hand.

"Get away from her!" Weiss snarled.

Jaune scoffed. "Cute." He swept his left arm and the glyph Weiss was about to land on shattered in the air. Weiss' eyes widened as her feet failed to find the purchase she'd been expecting and she flailed her arms, flopping forward and down as gravity took hold. It was a short drop all things considered but any hope of landing properly was removed. Weiss struck the top corner of a container chest first and buckled over it, crashing down on the other end with all the air driven from her lungs.

A second shot ignited the dust in the container she'd landed on, causing it to explode outward in a ball of fire that engulfed Weiss and launched her off the docks and into the ocean with a loud splash. Metal rained down where she'd fallen, crashing down into the water. Weiss had been dealt with within seconds.

"Rargh!" Ruby screamed, streaking in with Crescent Rose drawn back. "Get away from my sister!"

Ruby was moving so fast she might as well have been a streak of red cloth. Jaune Arc didn't even react to her other than to look her way. Yang couldn't see that he did anything, but when Ruby finally got close enough to him to think about striking, everything went wrong. She snapped back into reality and the rose petals vanished. Her pace halted in an instant, as impossible as that sounded. Ruby's legs were suddenly moving at normal speed – but her momentum wasn't.

When her feet next touched the floor she was forced to contend with the fact that her forward momentum was many times greater than she could physically keep up with. Her foot tried to kick off the floor, but her upper body moved faster than it, zipping forward while her feet were _yanked_ back and out from under her. Like a bike whose front tyre had hit an immovable object, she flipped forward and down.

Almost straight down. The sickening _crunch_ as Ruby impacted the concrete chest and face first would have had Yang crying out if she wasn't so deathly afraid. Ruby didn't let out a sound. Ruby didn't scream.

Ruby wasn't moving.

Jaune Arc turned back to her, eyes dancing with bright golds and purples again, face impassive despite the fact her teammates had been dealt with before they could even get close to him. He raised his handgun toward her face and prepared to pull the trigger.

Yet again, he was interrupted.

"Subject 000." Penny's voice made him pause. His hand wavered, gun shaking, and for a moment she thought he was afraid. Only for a moment. His lips quivered and then stretched into a wild and painful grin. He turned from Yang, forgetting her entirely.

"Chivalric Arms," he rasped out. "Yes…"

"Subject 000," Penny said. "You are to be captured and returned to Atlas for testing. Resist and you shall be neutralised." Her blades hovered in the air around her to form a fan shape, clicking and clinking together as she took her position at the end of the containers. "Are you prepared to surrender?"

Could Penny take him? She seemed to think so and Yang dared to hope, even if she didn't dare make a sound for fear Jaune Arc would decide to shoot her in the head before he went after the new threat. It didn't even cross his mind. With a bloodcurdling cry only an octave lower than the one she'd let out when he split her hand in half, he charged the orange-haired girl, shooting so wildly that only one out of ten shots hit.

Yang moaned, reaching out a hand to drag herself along and to Ruby. She thought her vision was failing her because she saw two hands, then realised it _was_ two hands, her own split in two and slipping one way and the other. Fresh nausea threatened to have her spewing out on the concrete. Closing her eyes to hide it, she used her feet to push herself instead, squirming along the floor with both hands reduced to uselessness.

Her sister lay still on her front, one arm bent at a crooked angle and so broken it might as well not be a part of her. The other lay underneath. Dragging her sorry ass onto both knees, she trudged over and fell down with her nose and mouth against Ruby's neck. Her lips touched her throat, feeling the faint ripple of a pulse and breath being drawn. Alive. Yang sobbed, tears of pure relief mixing with those of agony and fear.

"Subject 000- S-Sub-_SUBJECT-_" Penny's voice changed, faltered and then recommenced again in a tinny and robotic tone. It happened once Jaune Arc closed the distance and the knives she had in the air behind her tinkled down to the floor like rain.

Penny swung one arm clumsily, face blank and sickeningly empty. Her mouth hung open the entire time, not to speak or make any sound, but as though every muscle in her face had gone slack. When her swing missed, she didn't even react to the knife sweeping up and plunging into her stomach, only to shake at the impact and then fix both hands on Jaune Arc's neck.

His clapped up, slipping between her own and parting them. He then dragged one out and stabbed his knife up and into the elbow as he had her. Penny didn't make a sound. Her aura also failed to protect her, though Yang noticed there was no blood. No blood, no screams and no reaction. Penny's other wrist opened up and a knife flicked out, caught in her free hand and brought down at Jaune's back. He _did_ cry out, stiffening and arching as blood flew out. His elbow swung back and caught her arm before she could attack again, then he placed the barrel of his gun against Penny's shoulder and fired. The bullet pierced through, rendering her arm useless.

"_SUBJECT 000. SURRENDER AND SUBMIT TO-"_

"Fuck you!" Jaune Arc screamed, sliding his hand up to the back of Penny's head and dragging her to the nearest metal container.

Her arms were already broken and hanging at her sides and her feet couldn't stop him. Pausing at it, he pressed Penny's face into the very edge, the metal right-angle corner of the container with the sharpest point toward her nose.

Yang closed her eyes and curled up at the sound of the first blow. A sickening and twisted crunch of metal on metal – not flesh? One eye cracking open, she watched the killer slam Penny back and forward, crushing her face into the sharp metal corner so hard it would have killed anyone. Penny's arms and legs bucked with each impact, but not as they should. Her feet kept trying to find purchase and she was pulling away even though Yang could see the horrifying mess her face had been reduced to. Most of her skin was torn off, her nose, eyes and mouth caved inward and bits of her skull sticking out.

Metal. Penny's skull was metal.

"_S-S-SUBJ- SUBJECT…"_

Jaune Arc pressed his gun to the middle of her face and pulled the trigger, snapping Penny's head back and then her body, sending their new friend toppling to the ground. Dead. Or as dead as a robot could get.

_What's going on? Penny is a robot. This guy's suddenly too good and my aura isn't working! What the fuck is going on here?_

"That's it?" Jaune laughed and kicked Penny's head so hard it flew off her shoulders. "You're sending robots masquerading as people after me now? Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK YOU!" He stamped down and shattered Penny's head under his boot, parts flying in every direction. "I'll kill every single one of you if I have to. I'll burn Chivalric Arms to the ground and salt the ashes."

Buckshot from Ember Celica sprayed off his back, making him draw in a sharp breath and turn toward them. By the time he had, Yang was on her feet and a good distance away from Ruby, propping her left arm up over her right wrist, and bleeding badly from both arms. Legs weak and heart in her throat, she tried not to shake as he turned to face her.

"H-Hey!" she stammered, flashing him a smile she absolutely did not feel. "W-We're not done."

He took a step toward her, eyes narrowed and blue once more. "We will be soon…"

He was focused on her, which meant Ruby and Weiss would be okay. _I might not be,_ she thought, but there was nothing else that could be done. Before he could notice Ruby and think to hurt her, Yang fled into the containers.

/-/

Yang bit down on the scrap of cloth, dragging it tight around her split hand with her teeth. The bandage was already soaked through and not really a bandage – she'd torn the cloth from her skirt. It'd have to do, and at least it stopped the trail of blood she'd been leaving. Her feet shuffled along as she did, taking her around another container, ears strained for the killer moving amongst them. He was out there still. Hunting her. The maze of containers, some smoking and others on fire, made for a terrifying labyrinth.

Time was on her side. Except for the whole bleeding out thing, that was. Yang listened intently, catching her breath and leaning back against a container. Gunfire and shouting in the distance told her some of the White Fang were still alive. She hoped they'd be distracted enough not to go after Weiss or Ruby. Pebbles crunched nearby. Heart thumping, she moved quickly and quietly in the opposite direction, trudging around another container and sliding along it, breath held.

She'd thought Grimm were frightening but this felt like she was trapped in a horror film. Some useless damsel running away from a slasher who'd cut her in two if he found her. _I'm supposed to be a huntress. What the hell is going on here?_

"Come out, Yang," Jaune Arc called. He'd evidently heard Ruby and Weiss shout her name. "Weren't you going to show me what a huntress is made of? I'd like to test if it's the same material your friend was."

Yang clenched her eyes shut as panic mounted. It was such a subtle threat and yet she could just imagine him carving her chest open. Her heart thumped wildly, so fast she thought it might explode. Her nostrils flared, taking in the scent of blood and fire and dust. Why couldn't he just go away? He'd beaten them. It was already over.

A scroll buzzed. Yang's heart stopped and she glanced to her skirt.

It wasn't hers.

"What?" Jaune snapped, behind her container. "No, I don't care. The dust is your problem, Roman. I'm busy. Yes, I'm aware what killing one of them will mean. You're mistaken if you think I care." Yang leaned her head back, eyes wide. She wanted to pant but was afraid of the noise it might make. "I don't know where Neo is. I don't care either. They killed her. They killed her and I'll make them pay for it."

Killed who-? They hadn't killed anyone! Her eyes widened. The Bullheads. The ones Penny chopped open. _But that wasn't our fault! We didn't tell her to destroy them!_ Fuck. She tried to move on while he was distracted, taking small steps to bring her to and around the next container. He obviously wasn't in the mood to negotiate. He wanted blood. Hers.

Something crinkled underfoot. A thrown away wrapper from a candy bar that made a loud and tell-tale sound. Yang swore under her breath and broke out into a sprint seconds before a gunshot pinged off the container to her right. She hurled herself down a narrow aisle between two, hearing the _clanging_ above that told her he'd taken to the tops and was leaping over them. She paused, let him pass her by and then doubled back, but he saw after his next jump that she hadn't come out and came after her.

Another shot whistled by over her shoulder and impacted a metal container ahead of her. It pierced through and then the metal ballooned outward, the briefest warning to toss her aura up before it erupted in a ball of fire, sending her hurtling back into the container she'd been running by, slamming her up against the metal and dropping her to the floor. Wisps of flame danced and weaved around her, tickling her skin and making her tears burn off her face.

At least her aura had protected her from that. Jaune Arc emerged from the fire, eyes a dark blue and locked onto her. His gun whirred and clicked as some mechanism fed a new round in. Explosive shot. He hadn't shown that before. Funny how that gem of wisdom came too late to make a difference.

"We didn't mean to," Yang rasped. "W-Whoever died, we didn't mean to…"

"Does that bring her back?"

Grimacing, she pushed herself up so she was sat against the container. A strange sense of calm had come over her – mostly morbid acceptance. If she was going to die, she'd rather die sitting than curled up on her side. Call it stupid but it was the best she could give.

"Tell me," he said. "Does the name Chivalric Arms mean anything to you?"

Yang looked up at him dizzily. Tired. "No…"

"Then I guess there's no point wasting time with an interrogation. At least Roman will be pleased," he muttered under his breath, bringing the gun up toward her. His eyes changed colours again. Was it his Semblance? It was far too late to care.

His head snapped left and he dived back, casting his eyes blue again. A sword cut through the air between him and her, slicing upward in a red blur before twisting and lunging his way, driving him back with a devastating flurry of blows. The aggressor was dressed in full black and red, wielding a long and thin sword with one hand and with the other on her sheathe. Long flowing black hair poured down her back and flew up in the air as she darted in, driving Jaune Arc away with skill far beyond anything Yang could hope to match.

Beyond what _he_ could match as well. The sword nicked his arm and shoulder, swept low and caught his knee. Aura prevented any of it cutting him down, but she clearly had the upper edge. Growling, he stepped into the woman's guard and his eyes changed colours, swirling with gold, purple and green again.

The very second it did – the _instant_ – the woman threw herself back, kicking off with heeled boots so hard she flew at least ten metres away, and even then backing up further, keeping her sword out straight and toward him but retreating at speed.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Jaune Arc raged. "Where the fuck did you come from? Why are you here? Why are you interfering!?"

Yang shared the same questions, though she had a feeling she knew the answer to the first. _M-Mom…? _She'd only ever seen an image of Raven Branwen, but her biological mother evidently liked her style because she hadn't changed it in over seventeen years. Why was she here, though? Why had she come back?

"Are you for real?" Jaune Arc snarled. "Are there more? Are people going to pour out the woodwork to save her? What makes her so special? Why wasn't _my family_ special?" He unloaded a clip at Raven, and though the whirling blade deflected some, more pierced through, driving the woman back. "Why did no one come save us!?"

He lunged in for her and Raven met him, blade flashing. He was driven back again, unable to match her and losing aura fast, but he found a point after her blade caught his shoulder to bring his handgun up. Yang couldn't see that anything happened, but Raven was suddenly in full flight, retreating as fast as she humanly could.

"You know," he hissed. "How the fuck do you know? Chivalric Arms? Is that where you're from?"

Raven shook her head but said nothing, and the mask covered her face.

"Then how do you know? Why are you here?"

"I don't have to answer," Raven said, voice low and threatening. "Leave. You've lost."

"Lost…?" His eyes burned. "I have lost. I've lost so much – and I'm not leaving until _she_ loses something too! Step aside or I'll go through you."

Raven brought her sword up defensively. "Try it."

Jaune Arc grinned ferally.

Yang saw the flash of pink. "Mom!"

Raven twisted and flicked her sword back behind her, catching a silver blade that seemed to come out of thin air. A short figure materialised with the sound of shattering glass – pink hair and white clothes. Yang didn't catch any more because the short girl kicked off Raven's chest, pushing her back toward a charging Jaune Arc.

Even with the mask, Raven's panic was clear. Genuine panic. She slashed her sword back clumsily and he dodged under it. Pushing a foot back to steady herself Raven leapt away with little regard for her own defence, all but hurling herself aside like she was trying to escape a live grenade. A bullet caught her thigh and blood sprayed in the air, Raven grunting and hopping back, leaping up onto a container, at which point Jaune Arc stopped shooting.

Panting, Raven touched her leg and the thin line of red there. The shot had torn through skin and flesh from what Yang could see, but it had more cut through a chunk of leg than gone in, and the bullet wasn't lodged inside.

"Neo," Jaune gasped. "Is she-?"

The new girl, short and pale, shook her head, eyes closed and tears on her cheeks. Jaune Arc shuddered, gasping for air and clutching his face with one hand.

"I knew it. I hoped but… They killed her, Neo. They fucking killed her!"

"Atlas killed her," Raven said, voice raised. Yang's eyes widened. Atlas-? "Your crusade is against them. That girl is a bystander. She has no part in this. Leave and you can escape before Atlas arrives to take you back. I won't stop you as I have no love for them either."

"That girl-" he sneered, "Held me back as my mother was killed before my eyes!"

_His mother…? No, I… but I didn't…_

"I really don't care what your reasons are, boy," Raven said callously, flicking her sword down. "I have a rule. One time. You've forced her to use it here and I won't be letting her die. You can't beat me. I know what your Semblance is and I won't be getting anywhere near you."

"You may know mine, but do you know Neo's…?"

Raven stared at the girl beside Jaune. The short girl kept smiling mutely, never once saying a word. The standoff lasted a few seconds, seconds enough that Yang dragged herself to the end of the container and stumbled up onto her feet. Looking back, she caught the flicker of displaced air behind Raven.

No! Without thinking, Yang pushed her left arm up and squeezed the trigger, fighting the lancing pain down her arm as Ember Celica bucked, scattering Jaune Arc and his accomplice with buckshot and causing them to shatter into shards of glass.

Her mother reacted instantly. She didn't know where they were but could guess, and she leapt off the container without a second's thought. More glass shattered behind her and Jaune Arc stepped out of it, gun barking once. The bullet caught Raven in the back and mid-air. Yang knew it hit because the woman flopped out the sky with a grunt, landed on one knee and punched the concrete.

"Illusions," she spat, voice tinged with pain. "Why didn't Qrow say something?"

"Good job, Neo," Jaune Arc said, stepping forward. Her arm touched his chest, stopping him. The girl nodded to Raven and hefted her sword, then pointed with her other hand to Yang. Yang froze, cursed and quickly hurried away, dragging her bloody self along the containers. "You sure?" Jaune asked. "Well, I guess she's already injured so you should have an easy time. Fine. You handle the walking Deus ex Machina. I'll deal with the blonde."

/-/

_I can't beat him._

It was a sobering and despairing thought that passed through Yang's mind as she staggered down a corridor formed by shipping containers. For all their bravado and confidence, he was on another level. Even Raven hadn't been able to stand up to him once he had help, and for all that Raven was a bitch who abandoned her family she was still a huntress. One of the strongest if Uncle Qrow was to be believed.

Stumbling along, dizzy and tired from lack of blood, Yang stumbled on, bumping into and leaning on one wall of the containers to stop herself falling over. Her eyes felt heavy and sticky, likely from all the tears that had long since run out and dried to her skin.

Turning the final corner, Yang felt a bitter laugh bubble out her lips. Whether it was by design or pure accident, she'd found her way back to the entrance, but not to an escape. Weiss was nowhere to be seen, but Ruby was in the arms of Roman Torchwick, bloody faced from her earlier impact with the concrete and blissfully unconscious. Torchwick had an arm around her chest and neck, supporting her weight against his midriff. He was flanked by White Fang. Yang dropped to her knees, shoulders shaking with hysterical mirth.

"W-What a shitty way to go…"

Jaune Arc appeared at the end of the path, shaking his head as if he was a tired parent chasing an unruly child. "There you are," he said, striding toward her. "For someone so confident in kicking my ass you do spend a lot of time running away." He brought his gun up. "Time to end this."

"Kid." Roman called. "This is a waste of time – not to mention the last thing she'd want. The plan is shot. Let's get out of here before it gets any worse."

Yang dared to hope.

Jaune crushed it. "Not before I make her suffer."

"Fuck, kid! She's suffered! Look at her – the girl is a fucking mess! They all are. Just… peace. Come on. This isn't worth having all of Atlas _and_ Beacon coming down on our heads. You're not just rocking the boat, you're dropping bombs off it."

Jaune Arc didn't listen. He walked past Yang and turned, bringing the gun up to aim at her face. She'd seen what that did to Penny and knew it wouldn't be any better for her. Aura didn't work. That was his Semblance. He cancelled aura. As always, the knowledge came too late to do a damn thing about it. Yang spared a miserable look to Roman, hoping he might speak out in her defence again. The thief looked away, clearly unhappy but not willing to push his luck.

"Shoot and I'll shoot you!" a familiar voice called. Blake stepped out from the nearby crane, chest rising and falling as though she'd run a marathon. Gambol Shroud was in her hand in gun form. "I know your range, Jaune. You need to lower your own aura to drop Yang's. The second you do, I'll shoot."

"B-Blake…?" Yang croaked. "Am I dreaming…?"

Jaune laughed, gun falling and shoulders hitching. "Blake. Ha ha. Ha!" He burst out laughing suddenly, gun over his chest as he held onto himself. "Oh wow. Ha! I can't believe it. Of all the odds. This is… This is so fucking stupid it's funny."

Blake's tongue darted out to lick her lips. She stepped away from the crane, carefully keeping her gun gripped between both hands and trained on him. He was the only one to find it amusing. Blake looked terrified.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you," she warned. "General Ironwood is on his way with the Atlas military. Winter Schnee is coming faster." Her eyes flicked to Roman. "I'd take Torchwick's advice and get out of here. There's still time for you to run."

"Finally, a calm mind," Roman said. "Listen to her, Jaune. We have a hostage." He hefted Ruby up. "We trade her for safe passage out and get away before the tinman can arrive. No one has to die and we can fix this. We can sort this out."

"How can I not laugh?" Jaune ignored him and turned to face Blake, smiling madly. "How can I not, Blake? Isn't it hilarious? One girl – that's all she is – one girl in trouble and everyone is willing to move heaven and Remnant to save her." He stabbed a hand back to a confused Yang. "How many people have come to help her? Her team, a killer robot, some teleporting huntress, you, and now all of fucking Atlas is on its way. Probably Beacon too. Everyone's willing to give it their all to save her but put my family on the line and how many came? None!" he roared. "No one! Easier to sweep it all under the rug then put the same effort in that you all will for her. Why?" he demanded. "Why, Blake!? Is she the Queen of Vale or something?"

"I don't know. It's… It's Atlas, Jaune. Yang didn't ask for this – she doesn't even know what's going on. It's not a fair comparison."

"You want to talk to _me_ about fairness? Me!?"

"What happened to your family wasn't fair," Blake acknowledged. "It really wasn't. Pushing that onto Yang isn't any better, though. She's innocent in this. There's no reason for you to hate her."

"No reason?" He laughed. "Oh Blake, Blake, Blake. There's reason."

He moved to Yang and gripped her hair, dragging her head up painfully. Her scalp burned as strands were pulled loose. Teeth gritted, she looked to Blake. Her partner didn't move. She was waiting for something – waiting for him to drop everyone's aura, Yang realised. Blake knew about it and knew that so long as she had a gun trained on him, he couldn't. But while he couldn't use his Semblance, Blake also couldn't stop him manhandling her.

"Tell her!" he ordered her. "Tell Blake what you did."

Yang's chest hitched and her eyes watered. "W-We didn't mean to-"

He gripped her hair tight. "TELL HER!"

"We killed someone!" Yang screamed. "Penny, a Bullhead, it was shot down. We didn't know your mother was on there!"

He released her hair at the last and Yang fell face first onto the floor, giving in to sobbing and tears as the pain took over. Even if he didn't use his Semblance, her aura was almost gone anyway thanks to her injuries.

Blake's face was stretched with sorrow. "Jaune, I… I'm sorry. I…"

"Don't." He stepped away from her and toward Blake. The faunus stepped back as he did, maintaining distance. "You don't have the right to apologise, _traitor_." The word made Blake flinch. "You betrayed me."

"The White Fang was going the wrong way…"

"I don't give a shit about the White Fang! You. Betrayed. Me!" He thumped his hand against his chest as he said it. "You brought me here, tricked me, lied to me, stole my scroll and cut me adrift when you _knew_ Chivalric Arms were hunting me! You left me to die, Blake!"

"No!" she cried. "I… It's just…"

"Shut up." Sneering, he walked past her, past Yang and past everyone, moving toward Roman with stiff shoulders and burning hate in his blue eyes. "There's nothing to be said. You know the truth. You know everything about me and why I'm doing this. You knew and you still turned on me. You could have left me with Adam, but you wanted to sell me out. I can only imagine it was to get yourself pardoned."

"That's not true," Blake whispered.

"I no longer care. Take your friend back. Since the whole fucking world seems determined for her to survive, I guess that's it. I'm the bad guy in this, I'm the villain, and isn't it the fate of the good guys to keep escaping by the skin of their teeth? It sure feels like it since I've had to fight a fucking army of huntsmen to get close to her." He looked up to the battleship looming over the city and moving toward them. "And now the _actual army_ is coming to back her up. Nice to see Atlas can do its job in going after criminals for once."

Yang looked up as Blake knelt by her, supporting her against her side. The gun remained trained on Jaune, though Blake hefted her up. "Weiss is safe," she whispered. "I managed to get her out and was trying to save Ruby. Damn it, Yang. I told you lot not to do this."

"I-I'm sorry. We didn't mean to. Penny just ran in!"

"And where is this Penny…?"

Yang whimpered.

Blake understood. "Shit." Pulling her up, Blake stared at Jaune, unsure what to say. "Jaune, I-"

"Save it. I was sick of your hypocrisy then and it's not gotten any better now. For all that you act like you want to avoid loss of life, you dragged and dumped me here. I take responsibility for the people I killed, Blake. Do you?"

"I do," Blake said, shivering. "And I'm sorry, Jaune. About your mother. I… I'm sure she was happy just to have seen you again-" His gun cracked, and a bullet pinged off the floor by her foot. Blake flinched, shutting her mouth. The message was clear. Her sympathy was not desired.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what she would have felt, Blake. Not you…"

Nervously, Blake nodded and remained silent.

"We've got to go," Roman said loudly, for the benefit of Jaune, the White Fang and even them. "I trust you two will let us go, yeah? We really don't want to drag this already sour meeting out further than it has to."

"Ruby," Yang said. "Give… hngh. Give my sister back."

"I will. I will. Just as soon as we're sure you two won't-"

"Sister…?" Jaune Arc looked to Ruby and then to Yang. His eyes burned and he marched over to her. Roman looked afraid of him and too afraid to stop him wrenching the unconscious girl out his hands. "This is your sister, is it?"

"Jaune, no!" Blake yelled, taking aim, but he pulled Ruby up to block any shot, lifting her off the floor with a hand in her hood. "Don't! Please!"

Yang's heart thudded in her ears.

It was deafening.

"I said I'd make you suffer like I had," he told her. "I thought the best way would be to kill you, but maybe letting you live would be that much worse. You took something from me, Yang." His eyes flared purple, gold and cyan. "Let me take something from you."

Ruby's body arched forward, her silver eyes snapping open and an agonised scream bursting out her lips. One loud _crack_. Then a second. Ruby's body bucked with each shot driven into her back at point blank range. The bullets pierced out her front and fired up into the sky. Her hands, both the good one and the broken one, flailed in the air, legs kicking violently before going still.

Jaune Arc tossed her body down, cancelling his Semblance just as Blake's shot struck his chest and pinged off. Two more came but his aura deflected each. Roman Torchwick looked down on Ruby with horror, stepping away and around her body nervously. Ruby twitched on the floor, hands fumbling under her in a futile effort to keep all the blood pooling out of her inside her body.

"It won't stop," Ruby cried, great big wet and broken sobs that twisted Yang's heart. "Why won't it stop coming out? Y-Yang? Dad? Mommy? H-Help me…"

Jaune Arc stepped past her, leading the White Fang away, catching her wide and broken eyes as he did. "That's what it feels like," he said calmly. "To be so close, and yet not have the strength to save them when it matters. Now you know how I felt."

Yang Xiao-Long screamed.

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**Long AN Ahead (No Spoilers Included):**

**Yikes. Doozy of a chapter to write. Bit of a weird one too. Since I knew from the start it'd be divisive, I kind of want to explain my reasoning. I'm not expecting everyone to agree, but it's such a pivotal moment that it probably deserves an explanation.**

**The obvious goal of this chapter was to show Jaune breaking and becoming something akin to what Atlas paints him as, and naturally Team RWBY were going to be the butt of that. The obvious choice was to kill Yang. I have enough death flags for it and to be honest the majority of the reviews were calling for her head on a silver platter so it would have been easiest to please that majority. This is me **_**liking**_** Yang too. **

**In the end, though, I decided not to. Partly because **_**surviving**_** can be just as traumatic for them – and remember, if I did kill them then we wouldn't get to see the juicy and traumatic aftermath, would we? The moment Team RWBY has to deal with this after all that's gone on. The other reason to keep Yang alive was kind of what Jaune himself said about heaven and earth (or Remnant in this case) moving to do so.**

**Now, that's not some call to "fate" or "destiny" or such, but I kind of wanted to show what it must be like to be a baddie in RWBY. The cast have some serious plot armour, if not by being apparently as strong as professionals as children, then having an almost limitless amount of Deus ex Machina reinforcements at their beck and call. Whenever they're in danger, **_**another ally**_** comes to save them. Sometimes it's JNPR, or CFVY, or a teacher, or Qrow, or Glynda, or Ozpin, or Raven, or Ironwood. Point is, they're always being protected one way or another – even a Grimm protects Ruby in the show by eating Roman. Seriously, how hard is it to be a villain in this show when even team evil is defending the good guys?**

**And this is fine. It works in a show and happens in more than just RWBY. It's a common trope. But I wanted to firmly have Jaune be on the wrong side of it, much like his family was. Like he says, everyone is rushing in to save Yang, but no one gave a toss about his family. Atlas brushed it under the rug, Chivalric Arms is allowed to experiment on them, and Penny was free to kill his mom. No one came running for them, and that makes Jaune understandably angry.**

**It's hard to fully explain my reasoning but the basics of it come down to a sense of breaking apart his reasons **_**not**_** to be angry against the system. The system abandoned his family and turned on him, and even when he's trying to right that wrong the system fights him. Then when someone steps in and does wrong to him, the system protects them. It's the hypocrisy I wanted Jaune to get to feel. The idea that the rules are different for Yang than they are for him. Different for Penny too.**

**In the show, Penny shoots a giant laser and almost certainly kills a lot of people. She gets off completely free because, eh, they're White Fang. Who cares? Well, presumably their families cared. The friends and relatives of the dead would have cared. But good guys do as good guys do, and Jaune has realised that here. He's the villain, which means he's a monster for trying to kill Yang, while they're praised as heroes for killing his mom along with the other White Fang who died in the explosion. **

**I guess it **_**sounds**_** like I'm just shitting on Jaune as usual, but it's hard to justify his coming actions without him being pushed to the edge. Killing Team RWBY would let him have a sense of getting his own back and might even have him **_**regretting**_** his rash actions once he's had a chance to calm down. That'd be bad for the story because it would mean Jaune slowing down and maybe even being wracked by guilt. This way, he gets to remain angry. **

**Think of it as how John Wick can kill his way through an army of henchmen but the bad guy who killed his dog will keep escaping by the skin of his teeth until much later. I guess it's somewhat similar here.**

**Still, I know some people will have wished for more blood, while some will hate me for shedding Ruby's. As for Neo, don't worry, I didn't forget her. It'll be covered next chapter.**

* * *

**All in all, if you feel angry and frustrated about how everything kept working out in Yang's favour, then you're feeling what Jaune is now, and that's my intent. Whether it works? Eh, we'll see. I guess some people would have liked the more immediate gratification of vengeance on Jaune's part, and I can definitely see the appeal, but like good sex, I kind of need to stretch out the climax until the end of the story. **

* * *

**On Penny: A lot of people have theorised how she might work in Null, etc. My theory (and others had equally good ones, so I'm not saying mind would be the correct one) is just that once he's close, she loses any sense of her individuality and becomes a mere machine. No aura, no personality, no free will that makes her Penny. Just a basic robot.**

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**Next Chapter: 17****th**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	28. Chapter 28

**Well, that was a casual 580 reviews for last chapter. I think that makes it only eclipsed by the last two chapters of Not this Time, Fate**

**A lot of opinions either way, some pleased, some satisfied, some not. **

**I've had people call the last chapter gut wrenching, uncomfortable and shocking, and that's good! I'm happy it could elicit such responses and readers probably for the most part feel the same way. Surely the whole point of getting lost in a book is to become emotionally involved in it. Even if it's making someone feel uncomfortable, I think it's good to reach for that.**

**To those who seem oddly shocked by what they see as a dark turn, well, I mean, the very first chapter had someone try to execute Jaune's little sister in front of him. Soon after it was revealed the group might even try to artificially inseminate the mothers to breed children for child experimentation. I can't help but feel that by chapter 26-28, it should be a little obvious this story is darker than, say, Professor Arc or Beacon Civil War. Just a little. **

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 28**

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General James Ironwood stared at the damages report and questioned if he wasn't too old for this shit. Stood in his private office in his flagship, the Vanguard, the large man hunkered down behind a wooden desk fixed to the floor, one hand cupping his chin and scraping over a rough beard beginning to form. The terminal on his desk blinked constantly, the number `46` beside a call button he dared not answer. His own scroll lay beside it, switched off to silence the incessant barrage of calls, texts and demands for his time or presence.

The door swished open. Clover paused in the doorway for the longest moment, only entering when James gave him a firm nod. "Sir," he said, saluting. "Headmaster Ozpin has requested permission to board the Vanguard to see to the health of his students."

"Has he demanded to see me?"

"No sir. Only his students at this time."

That wouldn't last. Ozpin would have questions for him – as he would for Ozpin. "Allow him entry. Have him escorted to the medical bays. Tell him I'll meet with him there."

"And the Council of Atlas, sir?"

"I'm too busy for them." James pushed his hands down on the desk and stood, sweeping on his coat and snatching his scroll, hesitating and finally shoving it into a drawer to be forgotten until later. "Make it clear just what kind of a situation I'm dealing with, Clover. I don't have time to play twenty questions with them while also managing this."

"Sir. Yes sir."

Brushing past the saluting Specialist, James stepped out into a wide metal corridor with mesh flooring and sweeping white steel walls formed outwards into triangular points before reaching back up to a ceiling dotted with a central line of bright white lights. The metal grill flooring clanked with every footstep, flexing under his weight as he made his way down the inner spire of the Vanguard. Atlesian Soldiers saluted as they hurried past him, none having the time to stop. Outside, Bullheads buzzed and whisked through the air, out over the city in what the media would undoubtedly call an undue show of force come the morning.

He didn't expect they would find anything by now.

An elevator took James down to the lower levels of the ship, those closest to the aircraft docks and the landing bays. The doors swished open and he moved past the engineering teams busy looking over the Knight Units. The emblazoned logo `CA` remained on their breasts and his eyes narrowed. Engineering teams were already working their way up and down them, decommissioning the machines on his explicit orders.

Another door opened and closed, bringing him into a sterilised corridor of silver metal and bright light – the walls covered in universal symbols for medicine and healing. The medical bays were kept close to the landing bays for ease of transport of the wounded on or off, or to be more readily available if troops came back injured and couldn't make the journeys to the upper quarters. James' heavy boots clanked down the corridor, past wards and rooms for recovery, through a set of doors marked for medical personnel only and toward a corridor flanked by benches, upon which sat a young woman with her head in her hands. Blake Belladonna looked up at hearing his arrival, then stood with a hopeful expression on her tearstained face. James held up a hand, silencing her before the first word could cross her lips.

"You may enter with me so long as you remain silent unless spoken to. Am I understood?"

The girl closed her mouth and nodded, sealing her lips into a thin line. Desperation creased her brow, which he could well expect given her situation. He gestured for her to come behind, approaching the doors and pushed them open.

Inside lay a large operating chamber with several beds sectioned off by pale green curtains drawn shut around them. A doctor pushed a mop across the floor and though she didn't make speak as promised, a frightened warble slipped from the girl behind him when she noticed it was blood the man was mopping away. The sound alerted the young man, who looked up with tired eyes. He saluted wearily.

"Sir."

"At ease. Is Doctor Snow available?"

"Waiting for you, sir. In her office there." He pointed and James nodded, thanking the man quietly before leaving him to his task. When he moved toward the indicated door, he noticed Belladonna wasn't following. Her eyes remained locked on the three sets of curtains drawn shut, hands shaking and chest rising and falling so quickly he thought she might hyperventilate. "Belladonna," he snapped, knowing it was unfair but also knowing she wouldn't respond to anything softer. He'd seen shock in enough people to know she needed orders right now, strict commands. "Come with me."

Stumbling, she hurried after him, relieved to have _something_ she had to do, even if it was nothing. He held the door ahead for her open, ushering her in and then stepping in behind, closing it.

Doctor Alexandria Snow was a tall and wiry woman of some fifty years, worn and grey-haired, covered in wrinkles and unafraid of anything. She'd seen it all – from gunshot wounds to men and women torn in two, to still-living babies pulled from the wombs of the dying or the dead. Her frigid blue eyes pierced into them both, narrowing on his as if to ask what mistake he'd made this time that she would have to try and patch together.

"Doctor," he greeted, nodding his head respectfully. He pushed the huntress down into a seat with both hands on her shoulders before taking the one beside her. It flexed, hardly able to contain his weight. "What is the status of the injured?"

"Alive. For now." The woman's voice was sharp and waspish, as if every word cost her a year of her life and she wanted to preserve each. "The boy did a number on them, that's for sure, but he's no killer."

"His actions would suggest otherwise."

Doctor Snow laughed. "I wasn't talking about his mentality. I know how to kill a man a thousand times over, but I wouldn't. He would – and tried his damned best – but he's an amateur. Inexperienced. It shows."

Blake let out a ragged gasp that drew the doctor's eyes and a stern glare from him. She swallowed and looked down, hands cupped within one another in her lap. James shook his head and looked back to the doctor. "Continue."

"The injuries to the Xiao-Long girl are the most telling. A split hand cut from the palm to her fingers and a pierced elbow. Debilitating injuries." She clicked a button and the screen behind her displayed a crude silhouette of a human female, upon which was a red line on one hand and a red circle on the elbow. "In terms of cutting down her ability to fight back, they're good injuries – but only life threatening if she bleeds out. I'd say he wanted her to suffer before she died, but I'm not sure it's even that. The girl is a fist fighter. Her hands would have been between him and her at all times."

"Meaning he was attacking what he could reach," James said.

"Aye. If it were me, I'd have let her have hold of me if she wanted – then slide a knife between her armpit and ribs." Snow tapped a thin cane against the indicated point on the silhouette's breast. "Between these two ribs would put a fatal wound on her she wouldn't be walking away from. Or here." The cane touched lower down, on the thigh. "Major artery here. It's lower on the body, too, so gravity and pressure will ensure blood keeps gushing out so long as she tries to stand and fight. Point is, I'd go for these with thirty-two years medical experience. An amateur, though? It's usually the chest or the throat, both of which a boxer would be defending."

"The same is reflected with the Rose girl," she said, bringing up a new, smaller silhouette. Judging from the shape, it was the back facing them. Two red circles appeared on the image, centred on her lower back, one on either side of the spine. "Two shots – piercing through to exit the front. They're uneven, clumsy. He was either in a rush, not thinking straight or he has no idea what is or isn't a fatal shot. Likely all three from what I've heard. I don't doubt he intended to kill her. This one here came maybe half an inch from doing so." She tapped the left circle. "The other, though, might as well have been designed to leave her alive. It went through muscle and her intestines, but nothing that couldn't be patched up by even a junior doctor. Not that I think he intended either of those results."

"An amateur." James repeated her own words. "That fits with what we know. He's had limited training in the White Fang and none before. His Semblance gives him the edge, but it doesn't make him any more effective. He's a child with a gun playing at things he doesn't understand."

Training was undertaken for a reason after all. Killing someone was easy by accident, but it was even easier to leave someone alive and suffering. Atlas soldiers were trained to know what areas were fatal and what were not – which with aura, typically meant _most areas_ weren't fatal. Jaune Arc lacked all of that and simply placed his shots where he could. He may well have believed that at such close range, shooting her anywhere would mean certain death.

_That doesn't change the fact he made the decision with the full intent of killing her. He would have killed them all if he could get away with it._

"If we hadn't been so close to hand she'd have surely died," Snow continued. "The loss of blood was heavy enough that we needed immediate transfers. Luckily, we have the blood types of all personnel on record or there wouldn't have been the time to take her to a hospital in the city. Specialist Marrow proved a match and offered his own."

"The girl will live, then?"

"Survive, yes. Live? That is up to her. While the wounds didn't prove fatal being shot around her spine is still a dangerous proposition. She hasn't woken up yet and we won't know until she does, but there is a very real possibility she will not walk again. If that happens, her career as a huntress is over."

Belladonna trembled. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gripped firmly. The girl was undoubtedly blaming herself and so much more. He couldn't afford for her to run out there and make a scene.

"And Weiss Schnee?"

"The least hurt of them all, comparatively. She was removed from the battle fairly quickly. Her injuries are mostly burn-related in nature, consistent with dust burns from close contact to exploding dust. Her skin is charred and severely damaged in places – I expect she will struggle to feel much sensation in her left arm and shoulder in the future. There is further burns on her neck and up her left cheek, much of it localised to the left side of her body. Likely an instinctive turning to protect herself at the last second. The salt water she was thrown into paradoxically helped mitigate what could have been much worse. While she was initially awake, I've anaesthetised her to help deal with the pain. Her recovery will be almost entirely complete, along with Xiao-Long's, though they may still require check-ups from licensed professionals, and they will certainly be out of combat for a while."

"In fact," she added, "The unique application of Null may have bettered all their chances. Most people who are injured have had their aura drained prior, while all three of them here had it nullified. That means that once they were out of his range - Weiss Schnee as a prime example - their aura returned and began working on their injuries. It may well have saved their lives."

"Thank you, Doctor Snow. I'm afraid Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon will be coming imminently and will have further questions." He watched the woman sigh and lean back in her chair, consigning herself to a busy evening. "Is it safe for Miss Belladonna to be with her teammates?"

"So long as she doesn't touch any of the machinery, yes."

James Ironwood nodded and stood, drawing the faunus up and pulling her outside, though he held onto her before she could run to her friends. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, tears that he knew might lead to rash decisions.

"Listen to me," he said gruffly. "Bella- Blake. Listen to me!" He shook her again, knocking her bow loose and causing her feline ears to pop up. He ignored them, fixing his eyes on hers until she was cowed to silence. "You are blaming yourself for this. I can see it. Stop. You were in questioning with myself, Winter and Ozpin. You left them in their room with the expectation they would be there when you returned. You did nothing wrong."

"I brought Jaune here," she whispered.

"Chivalric Arms brought him here. They brought him here the very moment they brought his mother and one of his sisters to Vale. Whether you remained loyal to him or to your morals, he would have come here eventually. If anyone is to blame it is them, and if you must hate someone then hate me. Your team does not need a wreck of a girl selfishly blaming herself. They will need support. They will need care. They will need you. If you feel you deserve punishment, then punish yourself by seeing to their every need as they recover."

Her eyes widened. He knew she wouldn't have considered it – few did. Mistakes happened, he'd made more than enough himself, but the time you spent dwelling on those could be better spent taking care of those negatively affected by them. To do anything else was callous. To lock yourself away and heap blame was worse than callous; it was self-serving and lazy.

"People make mistakes," he told her. "But you will be making another if you don't face up to this one and do what you can for your teammates."

"I… yes…" Swallowing, she nodded. "I'll look after them. I… Even if they hate me, I'll do my best."

"Good. I doubt they will hate you for saving their lives at the end. Without you, they'd have surely died."

"They shouldn't have been there!" she snapped, grief replaced by anger. "A-And they wouldn't have attacked even if they were. Yang said they tried to back off but someone else started the fight. Someone called Penny. I saw the Atlas crews come for her, or what was left of her."

"Yes." James admitted with a long sigh. "Penny was one of ours. I will be investigating this-"

"Will you? Or will it just be like Chivalric Arms were investigated?"

"It will be a real investigation. I assure you."

He doubted that would be enough, but she pulled away and hurried over to the curtains, slipping behind them and to her team. James let her go. Defiant anger was far better than a potential suicide risk, and she was right to question why Penny defied all orders. It was a question he would be getting answers to soon enough.

His attempt to exit the medical hall was interrupted by Clover and Ozpin along with two guards who saluted and remained outside. James sighed, welcoming his friend in even if Ozpin looked less a friend in that moment and more a vengeful wraith.

"Team RWBY lives," he said quickly, diverting much of the rage. "They are badly hurt and Doctor Snow shall fill you in on any details you wish. Once they are stable and able to be moved to a facility in the city, we will allow them to be so."

"How did this happen…?" Ozpin asked in a hoarse voice. "How did it get so bad?"

"A terrible accident perpetuated by Chivalric Arms. Your team attacked the White Fang and Arc's mother was killed in action. He reacted… poorly."

"He attempted to murder a team of huntresses, you mean. I'm not sure what more leeway I can offer him, James. I know it's the last thing you want to hear right now, but he has harmed four promising students."

"His mother had just been killed by them."

"That is a tragedy and we both know it, but tragedy does not warrant more tragedy." The headmaster looked to the curtains with barely contained worry – an almost _personal_ degree of it. "How fares Miss Rose?"

"Alive," Ironwood said with a small frown. "Along with Miss Xiao-Long and Miss Schnee."

"Can Miss Rose continue as a huntress?"

"Unknown at this time. Her injuries may prevent it. The other two could well see themselves returning to action after a period of recovery." It seemed as though Ozpin didn't hear the latter half of his statement. He closed his eyes and breathed out suddenly at the first, shaking violently.

"I see. Thank you, old friend. I would like to meet with Doctor Snow now."

"Ozpin." Ironwood stopped him at the last with a hand on his shoulder. "Remember your own words, Ozpin. Tragedy does not warrant more tragedy. What happened here is bad enough already. The last thing we need is for it to be made worse by starting a war in the streets. If Arc can be reasoned with, we can prevent so many more instances of this."

"Reasoned with, James? I believe he's proven himself incapable of that." He pulled away, storming to the doctor's office and stepping through the door once it opened. Ironwood let his hand fall, the frown already present growing deeper still.

"Is it just me," Clover asked, "Or did he seem more worried about Rose than her teammates?"

"It's not just you."

"Are we still going at this with kid gloves, sir? I'm not disagreeing with you, but he has a point. We might have been able to reason with Arc before, but I'm not sure what we can do now. He had reason to mistrust Atlas before, and reason to hate us now."

"We can't afford to treat him with anything _but_ `kid gloves`, Specialist. What the Council fails to understand is that what we've seen here is the work of an amateur trying to save his family. How much worse do you think it gets if that motivation changes? If he decides he wants vengeance instead, or to make Atlas suffer? I'm not suggesting the peaceful approach because I'm afraid of harming him. I'm enforcing it because I'm afraid of what will happen if we push him." He looked back at the curtains with a frown. "Team RWBY may be only a prelude to the devastation he can wreak."

He didn't want to see what the young man could achieve if he was aiming for it.

/-/

Penny was a shall of her former self – quite literally. The pieces that made up her dermal layer lay scattered upon a workbench like bones in an archaeological dig puzzled together to form the roughest approximation of some ancient creature. Her body from the chest down was in one piece, but her skull was a mess of twisted metal and scrap components.

Pietro Polendina hunched over it, his wheelchair propped up on servos to give him a better angle to work. He wore a metal eyepiece that contained a telescopic adjustment stretched out to peer into her cranium. His hands tinkered, peeling apart pieces, adjusting others and gently caressing her skin as though to comfort her through a trying time.

General Ironwood cleared his throat.

"Ah. General." Pietro did not look up from his work. "I expected you would come speak with me. Poor Penny is terribly damaged as you can see. It's almost a relief to think that she lost her individuality due to the Null Semblance before the final moments happened. I don't think she felt the final blows that killed her and for that I'm thankful."

"That's not why I'm here, Pietro, and you know it. I want answers."

The old man flinched. It was a small thing, but it suggested all too much guilt for James' liking. Pietro wiped the back of one hand over his forehead, pushed up his eyepiece and used his other hand to rotate his wheelchair around to face him.

"Penny's databanks are too damaged to retrieve anything from, I'm afraid. Even if they weren't, I expect they would have been remotely wiped to remove any incriminating evidence."

"And how, Pietro, did Chivalric Arms gain access to her…?"

"That would be…" He closed his eyes and sighed. "That would be because much of her internal parts come from Chivalric Arms. Please understand-" he rushed out as Ironwood bristled. "The Penny Project was approved long before we knew _anything_ about the threat posed by Chivalric. They were, and still are, the finest manufacturers of military hardware. They are the ones behind the Knight and Paladin units, so of course they'd be masters in the field. The Penny Project needed the best supplies available. Who else could we go to?"

"What parts did these include?"

"Most of them," Pietro admitted miserably. "Penny was built from the ground up, but the individual parts… well, Chivalric Arms is responsible for a good forty per cent of her construction. That includes the motherboards and instruments which make up her brain. I didn't know they had a means to access her, General. You cannot possibly think I would let my daughter be controlled in such a way if I knew. Penny had a mind, a soul and a life – and Chivalric took that from her. She's as much a victim here as any other."

"I understand that, Pietro, and yet I'm left with one burning question." Ironwood placed his hands down on the man's wheelchair, looming over him. "Once it was clear Chivalric Arms was a problem, and once you were made aware of this fact when we agreed to bring Penny here-" His voice rose, eyes burning furiously, "-why did you not alert me to the potential security breach?"

Pietro flinched again, sinking into his wheelchair. He'd known about it. The finest mind in Atlas couldn't have failed to see the risks once Chivalric were revealed.

"You kept it from me!" he roared. "You kept it from us all – and as a direct result of this, Arc is on the warpath and a team of young girls are in intensive surgery fighting for their lives. And for what, Pietro? For what reason?"

"I… I was afraid you would shut down the Penny Project…"

He could have thrown the wheelchair across the room, man included, in that moment. It was only an incredible degree of self-control that prevented him from doing so. It didn't stop his cybernetic hand crumpling the armchair's handle.

"The Penny Project may well have cost us any hope of stopping Arc before he turns into a confirmed killer. It may have cost that team their careers. It _did_ cost several people their lives, including an innocent woman whose greatest crime was becoming a test subject for Chivalric Arms. I have to go and explain to Sable and Saphron Arc that their mother is _dead_ because of a failure within my chain of command! I would have never allowed Penny down into the city had I known she was a risk!"

"We needed data-"

"Your data has cost people their lives, Pietro!" Ironwood roared.

"Penny acted in self-defence…"

"Penny initiated combat when she had no need to! That is _not_ self-defence."

"Self-defence can be classified as actions taken to prevent a crime or in defence of others," the frightened man rattled off. He was hunched back in his wheelchair, sweat running down his face. "They were White Fang. The rules of engagement are different from them. No one would side against the Penny Project if this was taken to the Council."

James Ironwood stilled. His chest rose and fell. "You've been reading up on the law. Or someone has been briefing you. Is there something I should know, Pietro…?"

"I… I've spoken to the Atlas Council." He saw the fury in Ironwood's eyes and blurted out, "I had to. You would have closed the project. They've agreed Penny's actions were in line with Atlas' interests. T-They're securing the project. I… I'm sorry, General, but I couldn't let you close the project down. Penny doesn't deserve to die for this."

"Did Juniper Arc deserve to die for this?" Ironwood asked carefully.

"T-Technically, she aligned herself with the White Fang."

"Don't waste my time with technicalities, Pietro. Your creation – Penny Polendina – killed over twenty people tonight, one of whom was innocent of any crime. Whether or not it was under her control, you provided the weapons, you provided the means, you gave her the power to cut a Bullhead in two – and you knowingly unleashed that on Vale and its people despite being aware of the possibility that at any moment Chivalric Arms might take control. And now, after the fact, you go behind my back to cover yourself and your creation. Is that what I'm hearing?"

Pietro swallowed. "Penny is innocent."

"Penny is, on that I agree, but _you_ are not." Ironwood stood, releasing the man with an angry push that sent his chair skating back. "You've disappointed me, Pietro. More than that, I think you'll find you've disappointed your daughter. After all, you'll have to explain to her just why she nearly got her new friends killed, and why the man she trusted most didn't bother to warn her that might happen. I wonder what she'll think of you then."

Pietro looked horrified, as well he should. Ironwood couldn't stand to look at the man he'd trusted so and instead turned his back. Even that didn't help because it left him looking down on the remains of Penny. He couldn't help but think she'd been failed as well, though that was as much by him as her father and creator.

"Not only would I have never allowed Penny down into the city, I would have deactivated her weaponry. The fact she cannot be harmed by conventional weapons should have been self-defence enough to roam Vale. Instead, she was sent down with armaments capable of destroying entire city blocks. Think for a moment on the sheer carnage that could have been caused if Chivalric Arms had her fire _into_ the city to bring down those Bullheads. Penny would have a death count racking in the hundreds, if not thousands. For someone who refers to himself as one of the brightest minds in Atlas, you're remarkably naïve."

"Penny was created to be a huntress…"

"Huntresses cannot fire lasers capable of cutting through solid steel, nor drag down aircraft with their bare hands. At least not many of them. You've forgotten yourself, Pietro. You've let yourself become less a scientist and more some God playing at creating life, tacking on upgrade after upgrade, weapon after weapon, turning what should have been a prototype experimental AI into a walking death machine. Gods above, I was supposed to enter her in the Vytal Festival. How much damage would she have caused her opponents there?"

There was no answer. Ironwood scowled.

"You might be interested to know that the hostages taken by the White Fang before the huntresses arrived were all killed," he said, watching the man close his eyes sadly. "The White Fang tied and stored them in portacabins where they would have been safe, but the wreckage from the Bullheads Penny brought down crushed them. Those that didn't immediately die would have burned to death in slow agony. Congratulations, Pietro. You have not only created life but taken it away. There's a lesson to be learned there, though I can't help but doubt you've caught it since your first actions were to run to the Council and Chivalric Arms for protection."

"You would have done the same thing in my position," Pietro called after him weakly, stopping Ironwood at the door. "If you had a daughter, if she were yours, you would do anything to protect her. You don't have the right to end her existence."

"And yet you're content to end everyone else's to protect hers when you _should_ know better." He let out a breath and steeled himself. "You are to remain in your quarters at all time. I may not be able to arrest you, Pietro, but while you are on the Vanguard you follow my orders. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to inform two young women that their mother won't be coming home to them ever again." He let the door whisk shut behind him with a terse, "Good day."

/-/

"No news on the huntresses from Beacon."

Roman set the steaming mug down on the table before the young man who frightened him more than he dared admit. The potato and leek soup within it swirled gently, chunks of bread bobbing up and down, only to go ignored by the man with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. A gun lay next to his right elbow, the cartridge removed and dust ammunition stacked neatly beside it.

"No news could mean anything. Hard to know if they're alive or dead." Roman sat beside him, or as close as he could manage. There was still a good six feet distance between them. "Neo is fine if you were wondering. Well, I wouldn't say fine, but healthy. Her opponent made a run for it once you were gone, took her bullet wound with her. Didn't stick around to duke it out with an injury like that."

The clock on the wall ticked on and on. Cars outside bustled by and rain pattered down on the nearby window. The slow sip Roman took of his own soup was deafening, and he winced at the small slurping sound that might set the kid off.

It didn't. The anger had burned out, it seemed.

"Kid. What you did back there…" He ran a hand through his hair, the bowler hat hanging from a hook by the door. His hair was unusually wild and messy, a consequence of just how much he'd been messing with it since he got back. "You can't… It's… Killing a kid like that – barely a child." He trailed off. "There are lines-"

"They crossed the line first," Jaune Arc whispered.

"They did," Roman agreed. "They definitely came leaping across it when they shot the Bullheads out the sky. Didn't even try and arrest the White Fang – just went in killing. It's just… no one is going to see it that way. The heroes swoop in and save the day, and if a few bad guys have to die to make that happen, well, they made their choices. That's the way it's always been. No one is going to care that they were the first ones to do it, only how you ended it."

The kid wasn't listening. His eyes were on his scroll, blank as it was. He hadn't even turned it on yet. _Probably thinking how he needs to tell his sisters,_ Roman thought sadly. He wasn't the most sympathetic of people, but even he knew that would be a hard talk to have. One that he really didn't want to be around to overhear.

At least the murder fury was gone. Bled out like all anger did. It burned hot, ran out of fuel and turned into a summering ember or a cold as snow pile of ash. Jaune Arc looked to have gone for the latter, trapped now in thoughts Roman didn't dare delve into.

Did he regret it? Did he feel sorry for what happened? Did he feel anything at all?

The answers to those questions were too heavy for him to want anything to do with. Roman ran his hand through his hair again, fully making a mess of it, before he downed his lukewarm soup and stood, carrying the mug over to the sink. His scroll buzzed in his pocket silently. Picking it out, Roman sighed at the caller but answered it anyway, knowing it wasn't worth his life not to.

"Cinder, this _really_ isn't the best time. You have to have seen the news."

"_I've seen it. Quite the display."_

She _would_ be happy about that. If it wasn't bad enough him having to deal with Jaune and Neo, then Cinder was turning into a nutcase as well. Shit really wasn't looking up. "If you're wanting to talk with him then I'd suggest calling back tomorrow. He's not responding to anything I say and you're not going to make any friends intruding on his grief."

"_His mother perished, then? That is a shame."_ Cinder sounded genuine there, much to his surprise. _"She wasn't a disagreeable person. Mercury and Emerald will be genuinely upset at her passing, more Emerald than Mercury, but still. If it will mean anything then pass on my condolences."_

"I'll do so. Was there anything else…?"

He prayed there wasn't.

"_We've found Amber Arc."_

* * *

**Ruby crippled instead of dead. A few people guessed this would be the outcome – and looking deeper, you should be able to see why. If Ruby dies then Jaune has to contend with the crushing guilt of a death once his anger fades, and that would hold him back from being a pro-active character in hunting down Chivalric Arms. We need him ready to move as the plot relies on him to be the driving force. If he's stuck in place questioning himself and hesitating, then the whole story has to pause while he does so. That's bad for pacing.**

**Secondly, if Ruby dies (or all of Team RWBY as some people wanted) then who is alive to face the crushing weight of their decisions? If Ruby dies then Yang should go into a mad rage, but that's not nearly as interesting as Yang actually having to deal with her guilt as she looks after her sister. Same for Blake. Plus, this means we get to actually see what happens to Ruby as a result of her traumatic experience, including her thoughts about it.**

**You don't get any of that good stuff if she just off and dies.**

**"So, omg, Ruby only lives because the plot demands it!?"**

**Well. Yes. In the same way Juniper died because the plot demanded it and how Pyrrha died in the show because the plot demanded it. That's normal. **

**The doctor scene (and the lack of death) was also important to show some of Jaune's vulnerabilities. His Semblance is OP, but he is not when it comes to skill or capability, hence why Yang was able to kick his ass and probably would have continued to be able to if he hadn't disabled both her hands before she could react. Jaune is a regular guy with a gun. **

**He's dangerous, obviously, but he's no James Bond or Jason Bourne who can kill a person with a paperclip or isolate the most fatal places to shoot someone. Other than, you know, the head and heart. He was using Ruby as a human shield against Blake and just shot her in the back twice. In his mind, that should have been enough, and would have been if not for Atlas literally being on the way with an entire high-tech medical bay. **

**Next chapter will include our first PoV segment of Chivalric Arms.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 24****th**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	29. Chapter 29

**Update - 31st August - I am badly sick this morning I'm afraid and there won't be any Null update today (31st August) or a Rabbit Among Wolves tomorrow (1st September). Stories will resume normally after this. Thank you for understanding and my apologies, I know this story is pacing around its fastest moments right now, so of all the stories I'd have felt comfortable skipping a week on, this _isn't_ the one. Alas, I'm shivering and shaking too much to properly write. The chapter would be like a fever dream. **

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 29**

* * *

Ironwood let the words of the council wash over him. It almost wasn't worth being a part of, especially as all his evidence of outside interference in Penny was dismissed, as the rogue Atlas Bullheads he'd watched self-detonate before went ignored, as the council pushed its usual narrative with all the subtlety of a group of powerful people who felt they were so untouchable that they shouldn't even try and pretend.

"Therefore it is the findings of the Council of Atlas that Jaune Arc is guilty on all counts of unprovoked aggression on an ally of Atlas. That his reign of terror did not end with four young women losing their lives is testament only to the quick reactions of the Atlas military, led by General James Ironwood."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

Not a dissenting voice among them. James didn't believe for a moment that they were all compromised; it was just that there were so many who didn't care and who would side with the majority, who held their positions for money, fame or power, and didn't really read through the briefings. They were easily swayed by those who _did_ have an invested interest in this. The Council was a shadow of what it was supposed to be. A lost purpose.

"It is decided, then. Jaune Arc's bounty will be increased to twelve million lien, and the condition of his capture being `alive` shall be removed. As of this day, as of this meeting, the criminal known as Jaune Arc is sentenced to death, to be carried out immediately upon his capture. Does the representative of Vale agree?"

The holographic image of Ozpin nodded slowly. "I do."

Ironwood's eyes closed slowly. It was less surprising and more disappointing, as though he'd not only lost a friend but realised his whole life he'd misjudged them. He remained silent. Nothing he said would change anything.

"Then this Council meeting is finished." Sol announced. "Atlas and Vale stand united against a common foe. May we triumph together for the betterment of all."

The screens went black and James Ironwood leaned back in his chair, drawing a deep breath. There had been precisely no surprises there, none whatsoever. Project Penny was out his hands, the evidence blamed on user error and poor programming leading Penny to misjudge or poorly prioritise her orders. In the words of Sol himself, they could not blame her for believing she should follow Atlas-mandated orders to capture Jaune Arc to the letter. To do so would be to set a precedent that citizens could be punished for following orders if it led to poor results.

"A precedent." James snorted and then laughed. "Death on sight, when even Adam Taurus is to be captured and taken to trial. As though that isn't precedent enough. What have we become?" A knock on his door brought his eyes up. "Enter."

Metal swished aside and Winter Schnee entered. Her uniform was crinkled when it was normally crisp and clean, her eyes shadowed and worn. She moved swiftly into the room and pulled a picture-perfect salute, only relaxing once he said `at ease`. He could hazard a guess as to where she had been and why she looked so tired.

"Specialist. How is your sister?"

"Shocked, sir. She isn't in any pain thanks to the drugs but the shock of being so easily dealt with eats away at her confidence. The burns aren't extensive, though they are… visible." Winter grimaced. "I spent some time with her and explained she shouldn't feel that way, but I'm not sure how successful I was. Belladonna is looking after and keeping her company. How did the council meeting go?"

"Jaune Arc is guilty of all crimes and our priority is no longer to capture but kill him."

It was because he was watching her reaction closely that he noted the absolute lack of any pleasure, vindictive or otherwise, in her reaction. Winter visibly flinched. "What? But sir – I… I apologise." Adopting a more respectful tone, she went on. "Sir, this makes a mockery of our own legal system. It makes a mockery of law, order and justice. We know for a fact this only happened due to third party interference."

"No, Winter, we do not. We believe we know this, but Atlas has decided that we are mistaken." Derision dripped from every word as he waved his hand in the air. "The council has voted and so what they have voted _on_ has become fact. Truth. Penny was simply `overzealous`, Team RWBY `doing the right thing` and Juniper Arc `a dangerous criminal who knew the risks`. The simple fact is that we misjudged the situation. Understandable, really. We were only the first people there and the ones most experienced with this issue. Obviously, the Council knows better."

"We're in Vale, though. We can't kill someone in another Kingdom's territory."

"Worry not. Ozpin has decided to agree with Atlas and swing the Council of Vale to providing us immunity in this matter. My good old friend has come through once again, allowing me the opportunity to murder a young man in cold blood." His fist struck the table so hard it cracked. "Good old Ozpin…"

"Sir…"

He'd expected some degree of pleasure from Winter, which felt unfair to say – it was insulting to suggest she'd let her feelings for her sibling cloud her judgement, but when everyone else had been disappointing him of late, it was an easy mistake to make. Winter was a soldier, however. A Specialist. She knew what it meant to put yourself in dangerous situations, to risk your life, to be a part of a unit that carried risk. Something Weiss Schnee had to know as well upon becoming a huntress. Injuries like what Team RWBY sustained were, quite simply put, to be expected. Not often from someone like Jaune Arc, but from the Grimm.

Ozpin knew that – he'd watched teams falter and die a hundred times before. Even _he_ had been forced to deal with the loss of some teams on training missions within Atlas, rare as that was. Once they graduated, it became more common as huntsmen went out to far flung locations to battle uneven odds in defence of humanity. Their job was one with a high mortality rate. That Team RWBY were alive at all should have been cause for celebration.

_Why, then, is Ozpin going so far when the team came back alive? Hurt, yes, but alive and capable of recovery. I doubt he's gone this far for every team in their situation._ Something was wrong there. It might have had to do with what Clover noticed before, Ozpin's frantic interest as to the health of Ruby Rose over her teammates.

"What do we do, sir?" Winter asked.

His elbows fell to the table, his head within his hands. "I don't know, Specialist. I just don't know."

/-/

The times Blake regretted her choices were many, but this was the first time she'd ever felt the crushing weight of them and not been able to hide or run away. She sat between Yang and Weiss' beds, the cold metal stool hard and unyielding beneath her. Her eyes felt heavy and her legs had gone to sleep on her a while ago, but she remained awake.

"Are you sure you don't need anything? Water, food, or help to the restroom?"

"I'd tell you if I did!" Yang spat.

Blake flinched. "I'm sorry."

"Yang. Don't lash out." Weiss spoke up, voice uneven and breathy. It had been ever since she woke up, either because of the burning on her throat or the time she'd spent almost drowning. Every word now was painful, though the doctor had said that would heal soon enough. Weiss was pushed up on two big cushions, sitting up on her bed with a book placed upside down in her lap.

From the side Blake was sat on it looked like Weiss was unhurt. Her skin was clear and pale, her body small and clean. When she turned to face her and Yang however, that changed. Skin bubbled an ugly pink with spots up Weiss' neck and cheek, down her shoulder and over half her chest. It was a horrific sight that made Blake think of pig's skin crackling over an open fire. It, too, would heal in time. Not enough that it would never be noticeable, but the spots and bubbles would even out to a permanent discolouration.

"I'll lash out all I fucking want!" Yang growled. The blonde was trapped with both arms tied above her, suspended in the air with bandages wrapped from wrist to hand on one, and from shoulder to wrist on the other. "What the fuck happened back there? You – You _knew_ what his Semblance was. You knew him!"

"I… I did…"

"Why didn't you fucking tell us!?"

"I wasn't allowed to!" Blake cried. Actually cried. Tears ran down her face. "I wanted to, of course I did, but Ozpin said he'd only let me stay in Beacon if I didn't, and General Ironwood said he'd _arrest me_ if I did. I didn't have a choice."

"Yeah? Well neither did we apparently. Look at us now. Look at Ruby!"

"Yang." Weiss snapped again, her voice raw. "Stop blaming Blake. We're the ones who went out there. We're the ones who assumed we would be fine." Her eyes closed, lips trembling. "If anything it should be my fault for getting us all so worked up about my curfew, but I'd rather blame the one responsible. Or the ones."

"Jaune Arc," Yang seethed. "I'll kill him for what he did to Ruby."

"No!" Blake cut that off instantly. "No, you won't. If you try, then he kills you. That's the way it is. You _can't_ beat him, Yang."

"I had him on the ropes."

"Everyone has him on the ropes! Everyone! Until for the _one fraction of a second_ that they don't, which is when he kills them. He's weak, Yang, but unlike you, he can afford to take hit after hit on his aura until he gets a chance to hit back. You can smack him around as much as you like, but if he gets one shot, you die."

Yang fell back with an agonised sound. Though she hadn't been there to see it all, she'd gotten an idea of how the fight went from Yang and Weiss. She'd also filled them in on what happened from her point of view, including the death of Jaune's mother. Yang didn't care; Yang said the bastard deserved it. Blake was sure that was grief and worry over Ruby talking, or at least she hoped so. Yang was shaken more than she cared to admit, a result of essentially being hunted down like a wild animal, left to feel helpless and weak. It had shaken her confidence just as much as it had her spirit. Yang was jumping at shadows.

They all were, but Yang had it worse. Her dreams often ended with her crying out or kicking herself awake. Blake tried to be there with cloth and water whenever she could, but Yang would push her away, unwilling to be seen as weak and getting angrier and angrier each time it happened. It was no better for the fact Ruby had yet to wake up.

"I know it's hard but the best thing we can do is forget he exists," Blake said. "We'll get better, we'll recover. Jaune has no reason to come after us and we can stay in Beacon, study and graduate as huntresses. Team RWBY will get past this."

"Where do _you_ get off saying that, traitor?"

Blake flinched.

"Yang!" Weiss shouted. "Stop it! Blake _isn't_ at fault for _us_ choosing to run off without telling her. If it wasn't for her coming after us, you'd be dead. Ruby might be, too. If you want to blame anyone, blame Penny."

Yang's lips peeled back into a snarl at the very name. Blake had never met her – only seen her remains – but the assurances from General Ironwood that Penny hadn't intended her actions hadn't endeared her to any of them.

"If that piece of trash hadn't run in, we'd have backed off." Yang tugged on her arms, cringing at the twinges of pain. "Ruby trusted her. We all did. I… I'm glad she's dead."

"If she even is," Weiss said. "A machine can be repaired."

"She shouldn't be! Or if she is, she should face charges. She's the one that shot down the Bullhead; she's the one that set him off. Is anything being done about her?"

"No one will say. When I ask, Ironwood says it's out of his hands."

Weiss scowled. "That as good as means nothing is being done – and that he doesn't like the fact…"

"Then he can stop it," Yang said. "He's a flipping General!"

"That doesn't give him all the power in Atlas, Yang. He has to answer to the elected officials who rule over the Kingdom. If they say what happened was a freak accident… then there's nothing we can do." Weiss' eyes closed. "I'm sorry."

"That's bullshit! This was no freak accident. We were set up! We'll take it to court," Yang said. "We'll go to the media, Ozpin, Dad and Uncle Qrow. Heck, we can have them in court and get this sorted out, can't we?" At the lack of response, she grit her teeth. "Can't we…?"

Blake stared down at the floor. Even ignoring Chivalric Arms, she knew full well how far Atlas cared to listen to people beneath them. The White Fang had been trying for years. How to explain that to Yang, though? The question was ripped away as a mumbling sound came from the bed on the other side of her, dragging all their eyes over as Ruby Rose slowly blinked herself awake.

"R-Ruby!" Yang cried, tugging painfully on her arms. "Argh!"

"Stay still!" Blake hurried around, pushing Yang down and rushing to Ruby's side, helping her sit up. "Ruby, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

"Mmm. B… Blake…?"

"Hey." Blake swallowed her fear and tried to smile. "How are you? Does anything hurt?"

"N-No. Hah. I can't feel much at all. I can't feel _anything_!" Giggling weakly, Ruby looked up at her. "I… I must be on a lot of painkillers, huh?"

None. None aside from some basic meds.

Blake's heart sank, words clogging in her throat as Ruby's silver eyes looked up expectantly, waiting for her to tell her team leader everything was okay when it clearly wasn't. The words wouldn't come, nor would Yang's as the blonde burst into tears. Blake reached over without a word, slamming her fist down on the emergency call button.

/-/

Cinder Fall had neither planned nor intended for the death of Jaune Arc's mother.

The question had been there in Emerald's eyes, even if the girl had been afraid to ask it. Jaune Arc having reason to hate Beacon so clearly aided their plans that the move itself made some sense, and she could tell Emerald thought she might have had a hand in it. She'd been quick to assure both her and Emerald she hadn't, and with good reason.

Jaune Arc was too dangerous to have as an enemy, especially when he hadn't started as one. It wasn't that she feared him any more than she did anything else, she knew his Semblance and could plan ways around it, but it just didn't make sense to make him an enemy and killing any one of his family would surely do that. Besides, he was already aligned with the White Fang, which was close enough to making him an ally already. Similarly, misleading or lying to him about his final sister was a thought that had crossed her mind but quickly been dismissed. The truth had a troubling habit of coming out, and the moment it did, he would turn on her. Fortunate, then, that her work had yielded results all of its own.

When Jaune Arc came to the second meeting between them, he appeared a changed man. Tired and obviously lacking sleep, she could only assume the impact of his actions weighed on him. He wasn't soft, but he was new to this and killing masked soldiers must have differed to nearly killing children. Even she hesitated the first time it came to killing someone with a human face. _It might even be for the best they didn't die,_ she thought. _He might have broken down if guilt were added to this._

"Jaune." Cinder greeted him politely and bluntly. "I'm sorry for what happened with your mother. If we could have known, we would have been there to help."

"You couldn't have." His voice rasped. He'd clearly been crying before this. "No one could have. There was a robot among them – one directly controlled by Chivalric Arms. It even looked human, so I don't know that anyone could have guessed this."

"A synthetic lifeform…?" It was news to her and news to look into. "Interesting, though not to you right now, I imagine. I'll not waste your time." Signalling, she had Mercury come forward with a paper folder of information she tossed on the table. "An associate of mine, a Doctor Watts, was able to hack into one of the scrolls liberated from the Chivalric Arms convoy we found your mother in. There wasn't much valuable information in it, but there was mention of them having `lost` the other Subject, which we believe to be Amber Arc. The Bullhead carrying her suffered an unexpected malfunction and Chivalric Arms lost contact with it according to this. I've included the text logs in there."

Jaune nodded, flicking through the papers. They were black and white images of the scroll on various sections of text and mails sent between it and others. She could have just printed out the text log but didn't think he'd trust her. He didn't have reason to. Instead, she'd taken pictures of every panel and even included the scroll in the file, cracked open for him to go through as he wished.

"Finding her was one of their biggest priorities and is probably why they have such a hefty presence in the city. You've run into and fought with them multiple times now, but it turns out you weren't their only target."

"You mean Amber escaped…?"

"Escaped from Chivalric but did not escape to her freedom. She was found and taken by someone else. Once we realised that, we extended our investigation to look for any unusual purchases or shipments of medical equipment, assuming your sister might be injured. Mercury found something interesting. Mercury?"

He stepped up. "One medical bed, several monitoring machines, a drip set and an automated injection system designed to administer doses of whatever you put in it every set amount of hours. Looking deeper, I found an order for a chemical compound I can't pronounce nor recognise. A quick search online shows it's a medically used anaesthetic, though. One capable of keeping people out for however long its used. All this wouldn't be out of place if it were at a hospital or doctor's office but, well, let's just say it doesn't fit here."

Mercury handed over the document and Jaune took it, scanning over before his hands fisted, scrunching it up. His voice came out scratchy and raw, dangerous and brimming with anger just about to burst out.

"How sure are you…?"

"I wouldn't have dared us bring this to your attention unless we were certain." Cinder said. "Once Mercury found this, I had everyone dig deeper and we located the Bullhead your sister was brought in. The bodies had been removed, as were any electronics, but the Chivalric logo was still present, as was some broken medical equipment used to keep your sister sedated. The new equipment ordered practically matches it to a tee, which is why we believe she's being kept prisoner once again."

Lies would only land them in trouble, which was why she'd pushed Emerald and Mercury to be as thorough as possible. When she'd first heard the news, she couldn't believe her luck, and so, hadn't. It would have been too easy to jump on the limited information, throw him at their enemies and reap the rewards. And then his ire, his treachery and a bullet in the back. From anyone else that was a poor threat, but from him? Well, it was deadly.

"We're one hundred per cent certain as to whom is responsible." Cinder said. "The Bullhead crashed down in the Emerald Forest close enough that no one else could have responded in time. Then, not a day later, this equipment is ordered and fails to show in the infirmary situated there. It's the _second set_ of equipment they've ordered, but we know who the first set was for, and that was ordered two months prior. That person wouldn't need a second."

Jaune's eyes flared with hues of gold, purple and turquoise missing together in an endless and angry swirl of colour. Cinder shivered at it, not because she felt threatened but because she knew that at that very moment her aura, her Semblance and all the power she had spent her life acquiring meant nothing. Even so, she forced herself to speak.

"Beacon has your sister."

/-/

The clerk swallowed his nerves and knocked twice upon the wooden door, flinching when a cultured voice called out for him to enter. He steeled himself and pushed the door open, hunching to better carry the numerous reports caught between his arm and his chest and entering the room. For someone so absurdly wealthy, the room was spartan. The walls were bare of paintings or artwork, the empty space looming. Despite being at least fifteen metres by fifteen metres, the contents of the room could be limited down to a desk, a chair, a sparsely populated bookshelf behind it and a water cooler in the corner letting off the occasional gurgle as a bubble floated up to pop atop the surface of the water.

Large windows behind the desk looked out over Atlas, over Mantle, and on either side of the window were two flagpoles proudly displaying the flag of Atlas. Without any breeze to billow them the material hung low, but the emblem was unmistakeable. The clerk stepped into the room and let the door close behind him, hovering hesitantly for a moment before speaking.

"Mr Fields…?"

A handsome man no older than thirty-five looked up from his work, smiling pleasantly and putting his pen down, sitting up. His pale blue eyes crinkled in apparent happiness and he ran a hand through black hair tinted grey on the sides. His suit was charcoal-grey today, a three-piece pressed suit without a single mark or blemish. Matthew Fields, CEO of Chivalric Arms, the bronzed plaque upon his desk denoted.

"Is it the end of the day already?" His slow and cultured voice was easy on the ears, his smile easier on the eyes. Chuckling, he reached for a glass decanter of water and poured himself a cup, downing it in one go. "It feels like I only started work an hour ago. How fast time flies when you lose yourself. Are those the end-of-week reports I requested?"

"They are, sir." The clerk moved forward, his black shoes clicking on the tiled floor. He paused a small distance from the desk, but Fields waved him on, smiling and making a small amount of space on his desk that the files could be heaped down on. The desk had extraordinarily little in the way of ornaments or mess anyway, no pictures of family or beloved pets. He had a pen holder, a filer, a calculator, a built-in terminal and a single framed photo of a military unit.

"Curious?" Fields asked. The clerk jumped but Fields did not look unhappy. "I saw you looking. That was my unit when I served in the military. The 41st Mobile Command." He sounded proud. "We fought Grimm, the White Fang and even the mob at one point. It felt like we never knew who our enemies might be. Ah, but that was a long time ago and I'm sure you don't want me to keep you here until nightfall. What of the reports?"

"The first is on Null, sir – I mean Subject 000!" he said quickly.

"Hm. I'm sure you did. Tell me, it wasn't you who decided to call him Null, was it?" Matthew Fields chuckled, watching the clerk with an easy-going smile. "No doubt you heard that from someone else and it stuck. Call him what you like. It doesn't bother me. What of our little runaway, then? Oh." His eyes lit up and he sat taller, smile stretching. "Was the robotics decision able to salvage footage from Project Penny?"

"They were, sir."

"Excellent!" Fields clapped his hands together. "Fantastic news. I'll watch that later, but you've seen it, have you not? They must have shown it to you." He waited for the nod. "Summarise for me, please."

The clerk shivered. He'd thought he was used to everything after working with Chivalric Arms for as long as he had, but witnessing that… "It was brutal, sir. Monstrous. He ignored aura, ignored pain, ignored everything. He kept swinging and swinging, breaking her down bit by bit. I've seen Project Penny's statistics, sir. Most huntsmen would have had trouble with her. Null took her down like she didn't exist at all. It wasn't even close."

Matthew Fields shuddered as well, though it was clearly for vastly different reasons. He smiled, breathed out and tilted his head back euphorically. "Incredible. Isn't it just incredible? The potential, the growth – he was but a frightened boy less than half a year ago and look at him now. I feel like a proud father watching his son ride a bicycle for the first time. And to think the Council wants him dead. What a waste? I won't allow it. How can I? Such potential."

"P-Potential, sir?" the clerk asked nervously. "Potential for what?"

Matthew Fields looked up. "Do you not see?"

Nervously, the clerk shook his head. "I… I'm sorry, sir, but all I see is a stone-cold killer…"

"No. No. Don't apologise. There's no shame in a lack of understanding." He stood, smiling widely and beckoning the clerk to follow him toward the windows. They were extremely high up and yet Fields seemed to have no trouble standing right at the precipice. "Atlas is beautiful, isn't it? A marvel and a gem, a Kingdom that not only stands strong against the Grimm but actively fights back. The other Kingdoms do, too, but they do so with huntsmen and huntresses. I despise that."

"You don't like huntsmen, sir?"

"Oh no, I respect them greatly. I despise the attitude of those that believe our protection must be left to them and them alone. It's indolent. Lazy. Why put any effort in ourselves when we can trust brave men and women to risk their lives? Let them die so we can sleep safely. It's disgusting, no? Unfair at best and downright callous at worst."

"But the military fights-"

"Yes. Yes, it does. The military of Atlas fights the Grimm despite the fact huntsmen do as well, and what is why I love my Kingdom. That is why I have ten fifteen years of my life to fight for it. But do you know what I realised in that time?"

"What, sir…?"

"I realised that one man can only do so little. That while my and my unit's courage saved lives, I could only give so much. There were only so many hours in the day and as passionate as I was, the body and mind falters sooner or later." He chuckled. "Our equipment back then, too. Well, it wasn't what it is now."

"Because of Chivalric Arms," the clerk said, amazed. "That's why you set this up?"

"Exactly. If I could only do so much as a soldier, what if I could do more as something else? What if I could contribute more to the protection of our Kingdom? What if I could be worth more? Now, the city uses Chivalric Arms products all over. The weapons that smite our foes, the armour that protects our soldiers and even the vehicles that carry them – all the way down to missile targeting systems and operating systems for automated robots that will die in place of brave men and women. Like this," he said, pressing a hand to the glass. "I can do more to protect Atlas, to serve it. More than I ever could have as a simple soldier."

"That is admirable, sir, but how does it equate to Null?"

"Subject 000's Semblance is important because it promises an end to one of the greatest imbalances present in our civilisation. That of aura. Do not get me wrong, I don't wish to be rid of aura. It's a valuable defence against the Grimm. However, when we allow for bad people to have aura just as much as we do good people, it creates chaos that practically invalidates the training, hard work and courage of our serving soldiers. It may sound totalitarian, but if a soldier points a gun at a man and tells him to stop, he should stop. How else can law be upheld? Alas, there are criminals who will laugh in the face of it, shrug off bullets and then kill the soldier for no other reason than that they have unlocked and know how to use their aura."

"It's ridiculous," he continued. "We could train every soldier in Atlas to also use aura, yes, but that wouldn't change the fact that certain people can afford to break the laws _because_ of the protection aura grants them. If it were known that aura could be bypassed, if it was a protection only against the Grimm and not against our fellow man, criminals would think twice before relying on it. It would frighten people into staying loyal to the Kingdom, while also preventing monsters like Adam Taurus and Tyrian Callows wreaking havoc wherever they go. Do you understand now?"

"I… I think so." The clerk smiled awkwardly. "It's law enforcement?"

"In a sense. There's more to it of course. Atlas would be stronger on the international field with such technology. I don't desire or believe we would go to war, but just the threat of us having it would force others to respect us, even if it's never utilised. Subject 000's Semblance will bring much needed stability to the world. No more city-wide lockdowns if a huntsman goes rogue. No more cases of entire units being wiped out by unscrupulous mobsters hiring huntsmen to do their dirty work for them. All will be accountable."

"By the power of a bullet, sir."

"Yes. Admittedly." Fields chuckled and turned back to his desk. "It's rather totalitarian as I said, but there might be other technology we can make. Handcuffs that prevent aura and Semblances being used. Tranquiliser darts that pierce through. Prison cells that will stop inmates unlocking Semblances and killing guards. Why, we might even be able to create an anti-semblance field over the entire city, or over key areas like hospitals, airports and train stations. Let us see terrorists harm our Kingdom when their aura and Semblances don't work."

"It's to protect people, then."

"To protect our Kingdom and the people within it," Matthew Fields said. "Did you think this was for profit? I really don't care for it. All our profits are pumped back into the business. I am no Jacques Schnee. I am a patriot. And before you ask, yes, the costs required do bother me. I enjoy no more than anyone else the sorrow Subject 000 has been put through, but there can't be progress without sacrifice. If we do nothing, then people will continue to die to huntsmen using their powers for ill. That is a given fact. A statistic that updates every year. For every hundred good huntsmen, there is one bad who will cause untold misery. If by sacrificing just ten people I can save tens of thousands, I must. That is what being a soldier means. "Now." He smiled and moved back to his desk. "What of the secondary project?"

The clerk's smile faltered and died. "T… The secondary project has… there has been some breakthroughs, sir." He picked up one of the files and slid a document out. "The Head Researcher believes they have managed to isolate the gene responsible."

Matthew Fields took the paper and smiled hungrily down on it. "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. And they said it couldn't be done. I'd say they're in for a big surprise, but I don't think we will be advertising this anytime soon, hm?" He laughed at his own joke, though the clerk did not. Fields quickly noticed. "What's wrong? Does the project bother you?"

"It… It's not my place to say, sir."

"Nonsense. Chivalric Arms is the sword and shield that protects Atlas, and every man and woman who works within it is a person standing at my shoulder. Speak your mind."

"Sir, this is… you're isolating the faunus gene."

Fields continued to smile. "We are."

"I…" The clerk closed his eyes. "_I'm a faunus_!"

"Ah. Would you believe me if I said I forgot? It's true," Fields said with a laugh. "I really don't care for the differences between faunus and humans, especially to wildly claim they're inequal or somehow less than us. If you serve Atlas, you are in my eyes a patriot. Nothing else matters."

"Then why, sir? Why are you researching the genes that make faunus what we are? I don't know what to think looking at this. It's like you want to target it…"

"Come now, do not faunus make up a sizeable portion of Atlas' population? I'd only do my own Kingdom harm. No, no, this is so we can better deal with the White Fang, nothing more. And I'm not speaking of scanners to tell who is or isn't faunus or segregation of the species. We're simply looking for humane ways to incapacitate the White Fang. Knock-out gas. Tranquilisers. Don't worry, these will only be sold to the military. You know we don't allow our hardware to fall into the wrong hands."

The clerk nodded. It was true. Chivalric Arms predominantly sold everything to Atlas, with only a few limited and out-of-date models to the SDC. Even those were carefully vetted to make sure they could not compete with the kind Atlas was using.

"You're right, sir. I apologise. I thought the worst…"

"As you may. Atlas has not always been kind to faunus." Matthew Fields poured himself another cup of water from the same glass decanter he'd used before and went to take a drink before pausing. "Ah. I apologise." He offered the plastic cup. "I've been quite remiss. Would you like a drink?" He offered it and then flipped over another plastic cup from the stack, pouring himself a second. "I get so lost in my thoughts that I forget my manners. I'll blame it on my military background; politeness wasn't what my drill sergeant liked to focus on."

The clerk took the offered cup more out of politeness himself than because of thirst. He let it tap against Matthew Field's, waited for his boss to drink and then drank himself. They finished at roughly the same time, the water crystal clear and refreshing. Once he was done, he took the plastic cup and placed it in the waste bin by Fields' desk.

"Thank you, sir."

"Think nothing of it. You may leave. Enjoy the rest of the day off."

The clerk nodded. "You won't be leaving, sir?"

"I shall once I've finished the reports. That's a lesson to learn, young man. The boss' work continued even after closing hours. Reports to read, forms to sign and investors to meet with. My work is rarely done. That doesn't mean you ought to suffer, though. Go enjoy yourself and come back tomorrow rested."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

The clerk bowed at the door, opened it and left, leaving Matthew Fields to pour himself another glass of water, sip at it and look down to his work. The video of the fight between Subject 000 and Project Penny was tempting, but he just knew he'd lose himself in awe once that started. _I'll have to take steps to prevent those old fossils killing off Subject 000. He's worth far more than any single team from Vale._ Best to leave that one to last, though. The more tiresome but no less important research forms came out first.

So many projects demanding more finance, more resources and less oversight. It really was a lot to consider, especially when Chivalric Arms only had so much it could give. Atlas needed results now, not promises of a hundred different things later. Before he could get started on it, however, the intercom on his desk buzzed incessantly. Matthew Fields sighed, pressed the red button and spoke politely. "Yes? How can I help?"

"_Sir. It's the front desk. One of our clerks just collapsed, sir!"_

"Oh dear. Is he alright?"

"_N-No, sir. His pulse is erratic. We think he's had a heart attack. We've called an ambulance."_

"Goodness." His voice shook. "Do whatever you can for him and make sure to let the ambulance know we shall cover any and every expense. I want him to have the best care he can. Blank cheque. I'll sign it later - and do keep me updated on his condition."

"_Yes sir."_

The call ended, the light flicking off. Matthew Fields removed his hand from the button and went back to his forms, a small smile curling over his lips. Placing the faunus project down flat, he took out a ballpoint pen and signed his name at the bottom, writing in `tested` himself and ticking the success box. Not every project yielded results, but it was nice to find one that did every now and then. All that remained was to see if the death truly was as medically indecipherable as he was promised.

It really was a shame people couldn't just get over themselves and realise that there were very few differences between humans and faunus. The prejudice faunus faced was such a needless thing and actively held Atlas, no, Remnant, back. Still, if minds couldn't be changed and the people were going to waste their time on it, perhaps it was better the problem be dealt with at its roots. All that was needed was to synthesise a compound that induced sterility in the faunus gene, pump it into the water supply and that would be another one of Atlas' problems dealt with as the faunus population of Remnant slowly met its end. Without that to get in the way, people could start focusing on what was really important. Defending themselves against the Grimm. And Atlas' continued superiority, of course.

Atlas would thrive, even if he had to drag it kicking and screaming into the future.

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**A slow chapter that you can probably tell is setting up the final players for the last arc of the story. The Council of Atlas is trying to cut Jaune off entirely, which is ironically still against what Chivalric Arms wants. Trouble in paradise or just a schism in the ranks? Either way, we get to see Matthew Fields and his own motivations, while finally revealing who took Amber. **

**And yes, that's the truth revealed there, not a lie on Cinder's part. I did initially want to keep that secret for later, but aside from saying "he wants revenge" there just didn't seem to be a good way to justify Jaune going off after Beacon without people thinking it was OoC or a plot hole. Felt like I had to reveal it to justify his next actions.**

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**Next Chapter: 31****st**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	30. Chapter 30

**Hey all. So, no update last chapter. Those who thought to check the last chapter and read the update at the top, or check my profile, would have seen that I was sick and needed to rest. Barring anything else, updates will continue as normal. I was just super out of it and worn out thanks to work. Not fanfic, but my other job. It caused me to come down sick and need rest, of which I'm recovering from now.**

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**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 30**

* * *

A strange lull had overcome the city in the wake of the docks incident. The average person could see it even if they couldn't understand why. The explosive action at the docks had been like the opening battle of a war, yet the three days that passed after did so in relative peace. The Atlas armada hung in the above the western part of the city, the capital flagship, The Vanguard, looming over the houses, but the humanoid robots that had started cropping up around the city had been swiftly removed by Atlas and replaced with armed soldiers. Beacon was quiet, its students avoiding the city and the headmaster avoiding the press. The White Fang were quiet, too, unwilling to step out and draw attention with everything balanced on a knife's edge.

It was the relative silence from each side that caused the one faction still moving to stand out all the more. Trucks emblazoned with the logo `Chivalric Arms` had started to come into the city – each immediately intercepted and searched by Atlesian soldiers, but each containing regular supplies destined for the running and maintenance of the Amity Colosseum.

"We've checked every vehicle three times over." Clover said. "They're all legitimate, sir."

General James Ironwood tightened his grip on the edge of his metal desk, mechanical fingers grinding into it until the riveted bolts securing it to the floor began to snap. The loud noise made the two soldiers by the doorway flinch, and Ironwood stop.

"I don't dare believe it. They might well have a legitimate reason to be here, but I won't trust those turncoats with something as important as the Colosseum. I want their work monitored, all of it. I don't want one of them so much as capable of going to the bathroom without a detailed report on their bowel movements landing on my desk."

"Yes sir." Clover saluted and departed.

Elm stepped up. "Sir." A quick salute. "The Council of Atlas are enquiring as to why the Knight-Class personnel droids are being removed from active use. Vale was to be a test run of their functionality and they want answers."

"Are you serious, Specialist?"

Elm flushed. "Sir, _I_ understand why we're taking those damn things off the ground. It's the Council that needs an excuse."

"My apologies. That was out of line." His temper was getting the better of him and he just knew the Council would love to use that to withdraw and replace him. "Tell them that we have discovered a fault that has led to outside interference causing a unit to act outside the chain of command. As a result, we have decided to suspend operations where they might jeopardise relations with Vale. If they ask for evidence, tell them we're too busy dealing with the Null situation to supply it – and that I am simply following their orders to make sure no expense is spared dealing with him."

"Sir."

With a quick salute Elm marched by Winter, nodding her way before the door closed behind her. Ironwood sighed and motioned for her to be at ease. Winter looked haggard and angry, expected given her sister's sudden involvement. "You called for me, sir?" she asked.

"I did, Winter. At ease. I shall show you the respect of being frank and hope you can respect that in turn." He crossed his hands on the desk before him, watching her face twitch. Ultimately, she nodded, shoulders stiff. "Are you compromised with regard to the Null case? Your sister has been harmed by him and I will understand if you can no longer keep an objective mind, but I must know now."

Winter saluted sharply. "Sir, I am not compromised."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't blame you for hating him for what happened."

"All reports, including my sister's, imply it was Chivalric Arms at fault for forcing Penny to attack and endanger my sister's team. I will place the blame where it lays, sir."

"And your thoughts on Jaune Arc?"

"He could have killed my sister. While I don't believe he intended to spare her life, I also don't see the point in trying to avenge her." Quietly, she dropped the salute, sighing and adding, "And to be honest, sir, I think trying would only put my life in danger as well. Weiss' recovery won't be aided by my killing him, nor by me getting myself killed in the attempt."

"Wise words, Specialist." Ironwood smiled proudly. "Now if only I could say the same for Ozpin. His shift is too sudden for my liking. Not one week ago he wanted Jaune taken alive and proven innocent; now, he wants him dead."

"Are you sure it's not his Council putting pressure on him?"

"I'm sure. He might pretend it is, but Ozpin was never one to fear their opinions. If he took issue with the decision, he would have let me know. He would have fought it." Instead, there'd been nothing. Complete acceptance. It bothered Ironwood more than he cared to admit. "I'm not sure if it's anger over one of his teams being attacked or something more, something to do with the Rose girl. I've had her history tracked as best we can. Daughter of Summer Rose and Taiyang Xiao-Long, two staunch allies of Ozpin. Niece of Qrow Branwen, too."

"That's a lot of his direct allies, sir. If I may, some of Weiss' early letters complained about Rose being made the leader of the team, too. While she appears to have gotten over and even accepted that, I can't discount that it's odd. As entitled as she may have sounded, Weiss did have a good point."

Ironwood hummed his agreement. While he hadn't been there to see initiation and so couldn't comment on whether there had been any genuine leadership qualities displayed, he had more experience than most on who to put in command. As silly as it sounded, age had to play a factor. Age implied experience, and especially did this young where the difference between four years training and six years training was a whole fifty per cent.

_It's unusual enough he let her skip two years, but to make her team leader as well. That's two full years of missed material she has to catch up on. You wouldn't heap the responsibilities of leadership on her when she has that much on her plate. _

He didn't want to say it, but the decision stank of nepotism at best and manipulation at worst. If Ozpin was desperate for new agents to serve him in the future, then the children of past and proven ones would naturally be more valuable. Weiss Schnee, too, someone who had incredible reach and future potential, not to mention the resources of the SDC. Add into that a confirmed terrorist who he should have by all accounts handed over to the authorities, and you had a team custom picked by the headmaster, with his pet project at the helm.

If Jaune Arc had harmed any other team, Ironwood wondered if Ozpin's reaction would have been this extreme. To his disappointment, he felt it wouldn't have been.

"Winter, I want you to investigate Beacon. Try and find out what is going on there. If needs be, take the position of an angry sister trying to understand what happened to her sister's team. Try and interview Glynda and the other teachers. Find out anything you can about Team RWBY and Ozpin's involvement with them."

"Yes sir. What about Null, sir?"

"He's been quiet." Ironwood sighed. "I don't like it. He wasn't injured and there's no reason for it, so either he's in grieving over what happened or he's planning his next step. Neither option bodes well for us _or_ him. At this point I'm not certain that even if we captured him, the Council wouldn't push for his immediate execution. No trial. He knows too much that would reflect on them poorly, if anyone would believe a word he said. They won't take that risk."

"Do you think he will want revenge on us, sir?"

"Almost certainly. Whatever our intentions, we fly the flag of Atlas. I doubt he has a high opinion of us at this point. And to be honest, I'm not sure _I_ have a high opinion of us at this point, either. If we're lucky he'll focus his hatred on Chivalric Arms."

/-/

Cinder took her place at the table opposite Jaune, her black hair covering half her face and her tight red dress showing off her figure. Jaune looked at her dully, reflecting for a moment that if a woman as beautiful as her had approached him before he would have been tongue-tied. Now, he simply looked her way and asked, "What is it?"

"Information." Cinder laid a newspaper clipping on the table, pushing it across with one finger so he could see the image. It was a report on his attack on the docks, more hate and blame toward him. This time, he was being blamed for the death of the hostages they'd taken. Hostages that had been blown up in the explosion caused by the robot.

"I don't see the point."

"Look at the back-left corner. The picture is the docks yesterday – do you see the livery on that lorry riding by?" Jaune frowned and leaned in, hissing a moment later when he caught it. With the main focus on the docks, it was easy to miss. "Chivalric Arms," she said. "They're moving into Vale in force. A surprising amount of it, in fact. I had Mercury and Emerald look further and it turns out they're involved with the Amity Colosseum. That's likely the legitimate front of it anyway. I expect they're here for other purposes."

"Me."

"Likely." Cinder's fingernail tapped on the paper. "But not only you."

He looked up. "Amber?"

"I think so. We know Ozpin has taken her into Beacon. If we can find that out then I'm sure they can as well, and I doubt they're content leaving a valuable test subject in his hands. I also think she is a _successful_ test subject."

"You think she unlocked Null? Why…?"

"I have no clear evidence. I simply don't see why Ozpin would keep her drugged up and hidden away if she was a completely harmless girl. I also don't see how that Bullhead could have crashed in the Emerald Forest. Can you?"

No. There really wasn't any point to keeping Amber a secret unless she had something you wanted kept hidden. He might have believed the man was protecting her if it wasn't for the medicine to keep her asleep. _Could it be that Neo and the Paladin weren't only meant to deal with me, but also to retrieve Amber? _

"Ultimately, it doesn't matter." Cinder said. "We're going to save her either way, particularly if she's kept with the other girl I need. The reason I wanted to let you know of this is because Chivalric Arms may be more active in the city. Whether that's looking for you or for her is unknown yet but be careful. It would be… inconvenient to lose you at this late stage."

Jaune had a feeling she'd been about to say terrible or bad or some other thing, but that she'd changed her mind and gone with the honest answer. They weren't friends and they didn't care about one another. They were allies of convenience, and they were only using one another because their goals aligned. His, to rescue Amber and hers to kill a woman who also happened to share the same name. Cinder had happily provided a picture of her target along with proof of her name, just to – in her own words – prevent any unfortunate misunderstandings based around the name.

"Do you think they'll get in our way?" he asked.

"They might – but they might also prove to be an opportunity if we play it carefully. They have reason to act against Beacon, whether they know it yet or not, and might do some of our work for us if we leaked the information. Beyond that, our ultimate goal – _ours_," she added, indicating herself, Mercury and Emerald. "Is to destabilise the relationship between Atlas and Vale. Since Chivalric Arms is so staunchly defended by Atlas, having them at fault for anything happening to the city would be a delightful way to do it. It may be in your best interests as well. Atlas in chaos will be easier to infiltrate to rescue your sisters in their clutches."

He nodded along, so far content with the plan. Anything that gave Atlas a hard time was as useful yo him as she'd said, and since both Vale and Atlas were content throwing him under the bus, he didn't see why he should care to go easy on them. Maybe they'd sympathise with his position a little more if they saw how crooked Atlas were. Let the people here demand justice for Chivalric Arms, then face the shock of Atlas completely ignoring their concerns or even calling them radical elements or terrorists. The thought almost brought a smile to his face. Almost.

"The plan is fairly simple." Cinder went on. "Less chance for anything to go wrong that way. By destabilising Vale and causing several attacks on the city, we will force Atlas to step in as their ally and deploy troops and robots to the ground. Once Atlas has done so, we shall sabotage the CCT to gain the ability to cut off communications and hide what happens here, then stage an attack on Beacon alongside the White Fang. Our goal there will be to locate the two Ambers, save one and kill the other, while also causing as much chaos in the school as possible while the general populace are busy in the Amity Colosseum. We will then frame Atlas and retreat, leaving the alliance in tatters and the other Kingdoms questioning whether Atlas attacked Vale. At least," she said. "That was the original plan."

"It's changed?"

"It's become more convenient than ever," she said with a satisfied smile. "Our original plan was to use Grimm to force Atlas to step in, but Grimm are obviously difficult to control and dangerous. Atlas has _already_ had to set themselves up to defend the city thanks to your war with Chivalric Arms, and with them coming here to contain you that's only going to get worse for them. I don't even mind helping you with a few attacks here and there. The chaos will only greater draw Atlas in, especially with how desperate they are to capture you and clear themselves of any blame."

Substituting the Grimm for him. It was a little annoying to be likened to a wild and mindless monster, but he could see what she was getting at. It wasn't the means, but the results. As long as Atlas was forced into a corner and unable to withdraw their troops from the city, it worked out.

"Now that they're focused on you, we can even sneak the White Fang in more effectively and save them for a surprise attack. I will need to deal with the CCT still, but I'm confident I can handle that on my own. The only question remaining is the final attack. Our initial plan was to use Grimm as a distraction while the White Fang attacked, and I infiltrated. If we do that now, Chivalric Arms might come to Beacon's defence. At least allegedly. They would fight us to secure you and your sister, taking the opportunity to break into Beacon under the guise of aiding the students."

"We need Chivalric Arms out of the picture," he said.

"Do we?" Cinder asked. "What if we _made_ them the picture." Leaning forward, the deadly woman chuckled and tapped her fingernail on the newspaper again. "They're already here and active, searching for you and your sister. If they were to find out where she was, they might start looking for an opportunity to take her back. Naturally, that would need to be when the headmaster is absent and most of the students are occupied elsewhere.

"Like during the tournament…" he whispered. "Instead of Grimm and White Fang attacking Beacon, we use _Chivalric Arms_ to attack Beacon."

"Precisely! Before, I had to think of ways to frame Atlas for the attack, but like this – it's not even a lie. Atlas will have attacked Beacon. CA will obviously try and infiltrate subtly, but if we hit them in the back as they do and cause them to panic, it will turn into an all-out brawl. Who would then notice us infiltrating to find our targets?"

"Atlas will denounce it all as fake. They'll say the robots were hacked."

"Let them." Cinder said. "Not everyone will believe that, and the Council of Vale will know the truth. They won't be best pleased and that along will back Atlas into a corner. If we take some footage, say Mercury or Emerald recording some of the attack, then we can leak that to the media, fully showing Chivalric Arms – trusted agents of Atlas – attacking a huntsman academy in an allied Kingdom. Imagine the chaos. It would rob Atlas of every ally they might have."

It might even be enough to force them to ditch Chivalric Arms. Maybe not realistically, but at least officially. If that happened, then people might start to question whether his claims were real or not. Even if they didn't and no one cared, it would put Chivalric Arms in a vulnerable situation. One he would gladly take advantage of.

Adam and the White Fang could then take Amber away to safety while he could go after Saphron and Sable, either rescuing them off Ironwood's ship or, if he needed to, travelling with Cinder to Atlas to take the fight to them directly.

_And once everyone is safe, I can turn my eyes on Chivalric Arms…_

"I like the plan." Jaune said, meeting Cinder's eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

"To start, we need to perpetuate the conflict between you and Chivalric Arms. Give Ironwood reason to believe he can't afford to take his troops away. The worse it gets, the more he'll be pressed. He may even have to deploy his robotic cohorts or request reinforcements from the mainland. The more battleships in the air, the more this will look like an invasion. If the whole city is cast in shadow, the populace will start to get extremely nervous."

It sounded good. Targeted. He wouldn't even be hurting innocent people, would he? Nervous, yes, unrest, yes, but since Atlas wasn't actually invading, him causing more battleships to come wouldn't hurt the average person. The only ones who would really suffer were CA, Atlas and Beacon. All of which deserved it. Even the students at Beacon would be busy at Amity.

"We also need CA to learn where Amber is being kept. For that, I believe Emerald may be of use." With a wave of her hand, she brought the girl forth. "Emerald's Semblance allows her to control what a person hears, feels or sees. Sensory hallucination. With it, she can make someone believe they've heard or seen something they haven't, such as evidence of where Amber Arc is being kept. Emerald will be happy to work with you, won't you Emerald?"

The girl looked anything but to Jaune's eyes, but she answered immediately, looking to Cinder with utter adoration. "Yes Cinder."

"That's a good girl."

Dependence. Affection. Probably manipulation, too, though he was the last person who could complain about that given how he'd practically kidnapped and threatened Roman into working with him. The affection Emerald had for Cinder looked genuine, so who was he to fault it? Since Cinder wanted this to work out, Emerald would presumably try her best.

"Emerald is important to me." Cinder told him. "I am entrusting her safety to you. Please see that she comes back unharmed." He nodded back and she continued with a smile. "And while we're discussing helping one another, might I ask for Neo's help with the CCT? Nothing complex. As I said, we need to upload a virus onto that. I simply need someone to infiltrate and insert the file, and with Ironwood sure to increase security, someone of her unique talents would be perfect."

"I'm fine if Neo is." He looked to her. "It's your choice, Neo."

The silent assassin tilted her head to one side. Her pale skin was puffy, her eyes red. She'd been crying almost every night since his mother died, sometimes curling up under his covers but more often than not clinging onto Roman. Horrible as it was, Jaune was kind of glad. He'd been unable to properly cry, something holding him back, and he was glad someone could shed tears over his mother's death.

His sisters certainly had. Telling them had been the closest he'd come to breaking down, the moment where he watched their smiles transform to shock, to disbelief and then to agonised wails, sniffles and sobs. His eyes burned and itched at the thought of it, and he shook his head, coming back to the real world in time to see Neo nod her head firmly.

"There you have it. Neo will help."

"I do appreciate it. If that's all then I shall leave Emerald with you. All I need is for you to keep doing what you have been up until the Vytal Festival begins."

"Don't you think they'll cancel it?" Roman asked. He was sat off to the side, away enough from him and Cinder that he felt like an onlooker. "I mean, they can't think it's a good idea to keep it going with all this happening."

Cinder chuckled. "I think you will be surprised. They won't dare cancel this and _admit_ they can't handle us. The Vytal Festival will continue. I guarantee it. Neo, if you will come with us? Emerald, do play nice and follow Jaune's orders. I will be displeased if I hear of any trouble caused on your end."

/-/

"The brat has been left to keep an eye on us." Roman said once Emerald had been given a room and had left to take a shower. "You realise that don't you? She's a spy for Cinder as much as she's here to help us."

"Does it matter? Our goals align and as long as she doesn't betray me, I won't betray her."

"Guess not." Roman puffed a fresh cigar. He looked bothered, ruffled and unsure of himself. Nothing that was common for him. "You know, this is the first I've heard of Cinder's plan. I didn't know anything about it before."

"Weren't you working with her?"

"With? More like for, and only because my life was on the line. There was no respect on her side, not for someone like me, so I was only ever told to collect dust. I guess that was to give the White Fang someone to `cause a disturbance with` before you rocked up."

"Then that means her plan is the same. It's the truth."

"I don't doubt that. I'm just…" He sighed. "It's only _you_ she's bothering to treat like a real person. You realise that, right? I'm a tool, that besotted girl is a pawn and Neo is a useful weapon. You, though. You're different. Dangerous, even to someone like her, and she's prepared to treat you as such. I don't think there's anyone else here she'd tell her full plan to like that."

"Good. I'm not interested in being used."

"Yeah, well, watch yourself anyway. The only reason she's treating you like an equal is because you have power to back it up. That woman is more used to threatening people to work with her, and I doubt she offers them a retirement package after. Just be careful. If she thinks she can get away with short-changing you, she probably will."

"She can't." Jaune said simply. "I'd kill her."

Roman shuddered, wrapped his left hand over his right elbow and walked stiffly away, head down and smoking like a chimney. Jaune watched him go for a moment before shaking his head. Roman was afraid of him still. He supposed it made sense, especially after what he did to those girls at the docks.

Sighing, Jaune wiped a hand through his hair, hearing the shower turn off. The new girl could spy on him all she wanted. So long as Cinder delivered, he'd help her, and so far, she'd already given him more results than anyone other than Adam. That was enough for now. If she became like Blake, he'd deal with her as such.

No one was going to betray him this time. No one was going to get in his way.

/-/

_Critical Error._

The word repeated itself in her head, buzzing and beeping angrily and flashing behind eyes slowly beginning to light up once more. Penny forced the warnings away with practiced ease, even as micro-computers allowed her to assess the damage and categorise it in the back of her mind. A thirty-six-thousand piece list of damaged parts processed in the back of her head, each missing chip, resistor and driver isolated and attempting reconnection.

_Timing out. _

_Reconnecting. _

_Timing out. _

_Reconnecting. _

_Timing out._

_Reconnecting._

_Timing out._

_Reconnecting…_

Penny turned her attention away from the programs. Or rather, she isolated and split her attention as only a computer could, multi-tasking eight different things at once as she sent a signal to her eyes and found them receptive. They could not blink, and the lens was damaged and misty, but she could make out the shape of her creator – designation: father – all the same.

"F-Father…"

Her voice modulator had been damaged. Penny hated the fact her voice came out mechanical, robotic and even masculine. The fact she _could_ hate it was something she felt proud of, and pride was another thing her father assured made her human. All of that might have made her a lot happier were she not reduced to a head and neck balanced on a workstation. And if the critical error messages would stop informing her of that – she was quite aware of it, thank you.

_Critical Error. Critical Error. Critical Error._

_Timing out. Reconnecting. Timing out. Reconnecting._

"Penny!" Father exclaimed, excitement tinging his voice. "Can you hear me? Are you there?"

"I am here, father. Should I be somewhere else?"

"No! No! Of course not. This is wonderful news. I'd feared with the extend of the damage you took, your memory or personality might have been changed in some way. Do you still feel like your normal self?"

"I feel-" _Critcal Error_. "-strange. I remember…" Flashes of light. Cold logic. Computations. "I remember feeling cold, father. I remember… that I felt like a machine." The fact she _was_ a machine didn't explain it. In that moment, she'd felt like a calculator. "I didn't like it. I… I was frightened, and then I felt nothing. Nothing until now." _Critical Error._ "What happened, father?"

"You were attacked, Penny." Pietro explained, stroking a hand against her hair. Penny couldn't feel it, even though her processors tried their hardest to simulate it. "You were attacked by a very bad man."

A bad man.

Penny remembered the bad man. Jaune Arc. Dangerous criminal. Important to General Ironwood. Orders: Do not attack. Withdraw if necessary. Penny considered herself good at following orders, better than just a machine. Soldiers followed orders and even if she wasn't one, she felt that the soldiers respected that she tried. She remembered Ruby, too. Friend Ruby. Weiss and Yang as well, but Ruby came to mind because it was her first real friend. Calculations whirred through her mind as she considered that and plotted outcomes.

"Is Friend Ruby safe?"

"Hm. What not?"

"Friend Ruby," she repeated, feeling an uncharacteristic twinge of impatience. "If I was attacked then she would have been in danger as well. I am enquiring as to the health of my friend. Is she safe?"

"Yes. Yes. The girl lives. Their entire team survived."

Relief. Or as close to relief as she could feel. It came out more like pleasure, but she wasn't sure that was right. Survived implied injury and she didn't want to feel happy that her first friend was hurt, even if hurt meant not deceased.

"May I see her, father?"

Pietro stopped. Something flashed over his face. "I… I do not think that is a good idea, Penny."

"Why not? Ruby is my friend."

"I… I am not sure Ruby considers you her friend anymore." He said it quickly, in a rush, and Penny's calculations faltered. That did not make sense. It did not compute. It deviated so much in fact that she, for the first time in her life, considered whether her father might just be incorrect.

Ruby had called her friend, had even agreed that they were friends. Friendship could end, Penny recognised that, but the situation as her father described it would not preclude that. Had they all been attacked and all hurt, then Ruby should not have changed her feelings on their relationship. Penny tried to frown but her lips did not respond.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because humans change their minds." Pietro said distractedly. "Humans lie and deceive, Penny, that's normal. They make mistakes, too. I think that Ruby's team blame you for what happened to them, and they're wrong to do so. Very wrong. You didn't do anything wrong, Penny. Believe me when I say that."

Penny tried her hardest to be a good girl, a good daughter. That meant listening to her father's words. Before, that had never served her poorly, but now… now they just did not work. "I feel something, father."

"What is it? Are you in pain? I switched your receptors off."

"I think I am." Her receptors existed for the express purpose of allowing her some degree of self-preservation, since without pain you couldn't tell whether your body was under attack. "It is a pain in my mind. I feel… I think I feel… responsible. That this was somehow my fault. Father," she pleaded. "What happened? What happened when I forgot myself…?"

Pietro stared at her. He was so lost in thought and caught off guard by the question that he remained silent for some time, silent for so long that Penny categorised the minute movements of his face, the slight twitches of his muscles, the perspiration on his forehead and the shadows around his eyes that suggested he had not slept well. Her systems analysed them all and began to piece things together. Heightened stress levels. Anxiety. Fear. Anger. Frustration. Hunger. Guilt.

The latter resonated with her. That was what she felt.

He still had not answered, so Penny tried again. "What did I do, father?"

"Nothing." A twitch of his eyes. A flicker of his throat as he swallowed. Pietro Polendina then allowed a loving smile to come over his face as he cupped her severed head and rubbed his fingers over her cheeks. "You didn't do anything wrong, my Penny, my daughter. You did everything you could, and you should feel proud of that fact. Hush now, I need to… I need to work on installing this chip. It should help you interface with the new body I'm creating. I'm afraid that repair of your old one is all but impossible."

Penny did not answer, and her father most likely assumed that she was following his request for silence to the letter. In reality, she was lost within her own mind, shock and discomfort ripping through her calculations.

Father had lied.

Her father, her creator, had lied to her.

The shock was difficult to process, as was the wave of sorrow that came from the realisation – not because lies were inhuman, she knew they were not, but because it theoretically meant she could not trust her father's intentions, and her father currently had his hands within her body making whatever changes he wished. That had never seemed such an important issue before.

Pulling back from her eyes, Penny searched within her own head, quickly identifying the chip he was working on and moving to access it.

_Access Denied._

Strange. New. Frightening. She tried again.

_Access Denied._

Again.

_Access Denied._

Frantically, again!

_Access Denied._

Had she a human heart, it might have been beating rapidly.

"I'm going to have to do a reset now this is in," Pietro said. "It won't be long, don't worry, only enough to do a quick memory dump and clear up some of this confusion. You'll not feel anything, Penny. I promise. Once that's done, I can start moving you to a new body."

Nothing she hadn't experienced before. Nothing she hadn't allowed before. And yet now, her systems flared. Father was already moving to his computer, so Penny dove into her own mind and accessed all her own programs.

_Extract Voice Log. Extract Video Log._

_Save files…_

_File Name: Ruby_

_Saving…_

_Saved._

_Create Backup._

_Copy Backup. _

_Paste. _

_Backup1._

_Paste. _

_Backup2._

_Paste. _

_Backup3._

_Create System Restore Point._

"Here we go, Penny." Father said. "Try to get some rest. I promise nothing bad will happen to you. Not while I'm here to protect you."

Penny's mind came under a crushing and slow wave of black as her systems shut down one by one. There was no pain, no fear, but if a human were to describe it, then it would be a slow death as each organ turned itself off one at a time, leaving your consciousness chased further and further back, cornered within your own body before even that part of you would be hunted down and swallowed in the dark. The last thing she remembered before the dark took her was a single line of code.

_Installing Driver C-Arm-1._

* * *

**Because, you know, Penny hasn't suffered enough. Pietro comes across a real villain in this, but in a way he's doing what Jaune is – selling himself and his morals out to protect someone he loves and considers his family. Except it's probably a lot worse because he's forcing it on Penny since he thinks he knows best.**

**Thinking how Penny might "think" is an interesting mind game all in itself. Obviously, we're told she is as close to a real girl as can be, but that can't entirely be the case. The computers involved must create some differences, maybe in that Penny can "multi-task" on a hundred things at once. That could even be a funny and realistic explanation for why she comes across so air headed. Penny is constantly forced to be aware of everything around her, from temperature to every chip and diode, to coolant, radio waves, programs, error messages, and literally everything else that the human mind just kind of processes automatically. **

**That might mean Penny is actually much more normal than she lets on, but that whenever she is talking in the show, she's at the same time having to balance her attention among a hundred other things.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 14****th**** September**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	31. Chapter 31

**Ignore the troll spamming offensive guest reviews as usual**

**Fair warning for this chapter being a little dark. It's intended as the final act of the story and leading into a descent into darkness before the climactic final stages of the fic. It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea. I personally think warnings like this are no better than spoilers, and just ruin the surprise, but enough people complained about me having Jaune shoot Ruby without a "trigger warning" that I can't be bothered to deal with it again.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 31**

* * *

Emerald always did as she was told, even when that meant being traded away like some collectable card to who Cinder called an ally, but who Mercury quietly referred to as a psychopath. For once, Emerald agreed with the moron. Cinder killed, but when she did it always seemed more elegant, more refined. Only those that needed to die did so, and only when they couldn't be manipulated into doing what she wanted. Despite their aims, the only people they'd really tried to kill was Amber, and she _needed_ to die because there was no other way for Cinder to take her power.

Jaune Arc was different. He killed everyone.

Not _everyone_, but close enough that Emerald felt nausea well up in her throat when Cinder promised her aid away to them in exchange for Neo's. She'd wanted to ask what that girl had that she didn't, promise to follow every order and beg Cinder not to leave her here. All of what would have disappointed Cinder, though. Emerald had bit her lip instead. Now, she was regretting it.

"If Cinder's intel is good then Chivalric Arms is keeping its people in a travel hotel down by the docks, they've rented out a whole floor. We're looking at over a hundred personnel, twenty-five guards to one-twenty-five engineers and staff for Amity."

"It's pointless going for them." Jaune said brashly. He was sat in the front passenger seat of the car Roman had pulled into a layby. The windows were tinted but Emerald still felt awkward in the back seat every time a person walked by outside. "They're not going to keep their secret stuff in the same place as their public side. These probably _are_ genuine engineers. There's nothing to gain."

"We know that. Cinder knows that. Chivalric Arms knows that. Vale doesn't, and that's the point."

Roman opened his window a crack, just enough to let the cigar smoke pool out. It was late outside, the sun set, and the city lit up by lamps and the occasional car whooshing by. The pitter-patter of rain on the roof and down the windows echoed loudly, broken by the splash of wheels on tarmac. A peaceful night, she couldn't help but think. Not a good night for wanton murder.

"Cinder wants us to cause a scene." Roman continued. "Much as I hate that, I see the point. We've both got to keep Vale worrying about us, so they give control of the city's security to Atlas and also plant the idea of where your sister is on Chivalric Arms' radar."

"I'd rather hit another lab than a hotel, Roman. There could be innocent people there."

"At this point we don't even know if they _have_ any more secret labs in the area. Not much point them making one if all their test subjects have been freed. We could be looking for one for months without any luck."

"I guess so. If it doesn't matter what we hit or where, we might as well go for the public angle." Jaune Arc sighed quietly.

Emerald wanted to laugh. That was it? He talked like he regretted what he was doing and didn't want to go on a killing spree, but all he could muster when the idea was laid down was a sigh. Actions spoke louder than words, and his actions weren't impressing her. Why did Cinder want this guy on their side so bad? His Semblance, obviously, but there had to be more to it than that. He was a nutcase. A proper, old-fashioned serial killer.

The dangerous and unpredictable type.

"_Remember,"_ Cinder's voice played in her memory. _"Whatever you do, you must not try and use your Semblance on him. Not once. If he uses his and counters it, he will kill you. I want you back from this alive, Emerald. Do whatever they say."_

Not `he might be able to kill you` but `he will kill you`. She might have taken that kind of certainty as an insult at any other time, but the way Cinder said it made it clear it was a foregone conclusion. It probably was. Her Semblance was incredible, it made her special and it was the reason Cinder wanted her so, but it was a non-combat Semblance. It didn't hurt or injure the foe unless she used it specifically to make that happen. As such, if she used it on Jaune Arc and he turned it off with his, along with her aura, she'd be helpless. Dead.

Emerald shivered in the backseat, drawing her feet up onto the faux-leather.

"We don't actually need to go on a killing spree," Roman said. "I'd prefer it if you- if we, I mean we, didn't." Nice attempt, not that Emerald thought anyone missed his little slip. "We just need to go against their security and make the effort. Whether it works or not won't change the fact this'll be splashed over the papers tomorrow morning. That enough for Cinder?"

It took her a second to realise Roman was asking _her_ the question. "Y-Yes. As long as there's some chaos that will make Vale nervous, that's fine. We _want_ Amity airborne, too, so it might not be a good idea to kill the people who are going to make that happen."

"There you have it. We go in hard, do what we have to and get out. That alright?"

"It's fine." Jaune Arc sounded impatient. Emerald tried to tell herself it wasn't impatience to kill. "You don't need to explain this to me, Roman."

"See. I feel like I do, otherwise you're going to go off the deep end. This isn't like the last times where we had someone to look for. This isn't going to _feel_ like a win when we leave empty handed, but it will be."

"I get it. As long as Cinder helps me attack Beacon to get to Amber, I don't care."

Roman drew a deep breath. "Even if that means killing people?"

"I've already killed people." Jaune Arc said. "What's a few more at this point?"

/-/

Jaune was angry.

It probably wouldn't have come as a surprise to Roman, and it probably didn't cause any revelations in the green-haired girl travelling reluctantly with them. He wasn't blind to how little she liked him, which was fine. He didn't expect Neo would like Cinder and Mercury much either, and they weren't here to make friends. It wasn't her or Cinder which had his blood boiling, however. It was everything – and possibly everyone – else.

Don't cross any lines you can't come back from. He'd tried his level best to follow that advice from his dad, and all he'd got from it was a fat load of nothing. He made sure to only kill those working for Chivalric Arms, he tried to spare those he could and he'd even done his best to protect civilians where possible, all in the hope the world might take some small amount of notice, that someone might care enough to notice that what Atlas and CA were saying about him didn't add up.

It never did. Not once.

Then, the one time he'd fucked up and made a mistake, the world jumped on him. Shooting that girl was a mistake. It wasn't one he regretted. Even now, as much as he wished he did, he still felt a rush of satisfaction at the memory of the look on that blonde bitch's face. The horror on Blake's, too. In an ideal world he'd have rather planted those bullets in her instead, but it had been worth it in a disgusting and horrible way he wished he didn't feel.

That didn't change the fact it was a mistake, though. He admitted it. The girl hadn't deserved to be shot and he'd crossed a line. One line, and not even in a tenth the way that Chivalric Arms had, and he was instantly the worst villain in history. He had a death sentence on him. Hilarious. Ridiculous. Unfair. Fucking typical.

_They kill my father, kidnap my family and conduct inhumane experiments on us, and no one cares. I hurt one huntress, even after she and her friends kill my mother, and suddenly I'm the worst scum on Remnant._

It was a comedy – it had to be! He'd never understood the idea that comedy could be tragedy, or what they said about being the same, but now he did. The people of Atlas _didn't care_ that their Kingdom was conducting illegal human experimentation. It was easier to not know and live without the guilt. Easier to call him a liar and a terrorist and let him be tortured and killed in the name of justice and honour.

Vale didn't care that its huntresses had killed his mother along with a whole bunch of faunus. Those faunus had sided with the enemy, so they all got to die. That was it. Did it matter that Vale's laws said even hardened criminals had to be tried in court? Nope. Not when the alternative was admitting their Kingdom was anything less than perfect. White Fang dead, Jaune Arc bad and those innocent hostages killed by the wreckage? Yeah, they were all probably executed by Jaune Arc anyway. He's a psychopath after all. Let's blame everything on him.

He hadn't grown up doubting people like that. He'd been called sweet, compassionate and even naïve, always seeing the best in people even when they didn't deserve it. Then again, didn't most people? You never questioned the big, bad things going on behind the scenes because you didn't believe they existed and, if they were revealed, you accepted the Government's claims that they were necessary, not so bad or for the greater good. Or you labelled them conspiracy theories and forgot all about them. Easy enough to do.

Fuck people. They were selfish, heartless and stupid fucks. He was, too, of course. Selfish enough to want to save his family no matter what, but at least he _recognised_ that what he did was terrible, which he liked to think made him better than the fuckwits decrying him as pure, unadulterated evil for snapping and hurting a girl who wasn't half as innocent as Vale liked to think.

And his reward? Blame. He was the monster, they went free as poor victims of his cruelty, and now to top it off, Beacon even _had_ his sister. Therefore, Beacon knew his claims were true. Beacon – or at least its headmaster – knew that he was the victim of human experimentation and false accusations. He could have revealed her, challenged Atlas and brought Chivalric Arms to justice. Had he? Of course not. He'd sided with Atlas in wanting him dead. Out the way.

He looked up at the glass front doors of the hotel, his hood up and covering his face as his boots splashed down on the sidewalk, taking him up the steps to the automatic doors that swished open. Warm air hit his face, drying the moisture as the warm light highlighted his furious snarl.

Jaune Arc was angry.

And if it didn't matter what lines he crossed, if Vale, Atlas and the public of Remnant were going to intentionally ignore every drop of mercy, compassion and honour he showed, and only highlight every mistake, then what was the point of trying? What was the point of breaking his back to be the good person when he couldn't so much as exist without being blamed for murder? Tonight, he would be a psychopath whether he killed one person, one thousand people, or no one. It literally didn't matter what he did.

Atlas, Vale, Beacon and even Blake wanted him labelled a monster.

So be it.

_BAM! BAM! BAM!_

Hotel guests and staff screamed and hit the ground as three shots discharged up into the air. Glasses shattered on the marble floor and people began to cry and beg and wail, a cacophony of voices that grated on his ears.

"SILENCE!" he roared, shooting one more time upward. Apart from the occasional whimper and sob, no one dared make a sound. Women clung to their children, wrapping hands over their mouths, while hotel staff crouched by the doors and elevators, shaking like leaves. "The first person to move dies. I won't warn you twice."

"Fuck, kid!" he heard Roman whisper.

Emerald, hood up and a bandanna wrapped around the lower half of her face, stuck close to the thief, all but hiding behind his white coat. What did they want? Really? He'd been told to cause a scene and that didn't mean playing fucking snooker on the hotel's table, did it? Cinder needed Vale in shambles. _He_ needed Vale in shambles.

Jaune ignored it and stomped over to the main desk. There was a woman behind it, down on her knees and desperately trying to hide under the counter. Her hair was a dark brown and tied up in a bun. He'd have felt bad for the tear tracks down her face if it wasn't for the fact his sisters had spent the night crying at how their mother was ripped away from them, impregnated against her will and then _fucking murdered_ by Vale. His patience was too thin to care.

"Up!" He gripped an arm and wrenched the woman to her feet, then pushed her to the counter. She fell and slapped her arms over it, whimpering and crying fitfully. For fuck's sake. "Tell me what floor Chivalric Arms have rented out!"

"I-I'm sorry. P-Please don't kill me. I don't want to-"

He pushed the barrel of his gun into the back of her head and shouted, "Tell me what floor Chivalric Arms are on! NOW!"

The woman jerkily started to go through her computer. It was slow thanks to how badly she was shaking, fingers hitting the wrong keys and making everything take twice as long as it should. Her loud crying didn't help.

Did she think she had reason to cry? She got to come out of this alive and would go back to her safe life where she didn't have to worry about being experimented on for something that wasn't their fault. She didn't need to worry about armed military coming after her, huntsmen killing her family or having her sister abducted and kept drugged in someone's basement. Pain may have been relative, but he couldn't respect hers.

"Floor three!" she gasped wetly. "T-They're on floor free. Please, I did what you said-"

He walked away before she could finish. Maybe she cried in relief, maybe she fainted or maybe she ducked under the desk to curl into a ball and pee herself. He didn't know or care. "Floor three," he said to Roman and Emerald as he passed them by. "Take the stairs. I'll use the elevator."

"You sure that's wise? They might turn it off."

Jaune fixed the hotelier by the elevator with a stare and watched the boy sweat. "I'll kill him if he does," he said, loud enough for the boy to hear. He stood by him, watching as the boy – more a man, really, but looking younger with how scared he was – opened the door and waved him inside. "Floor three." Jaune said politely, holding his gun downward against his thighs.

"Y-Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

The bellboy stepped in and pushed the button, closing the doors and leaving Emerald and Roman to take the safer route. Jaune breathed out through his nose as the elevator music played, sparing a quick look to the hotelier stood hunched against the buttons, shoulders stiff and eyes fixed on the wall, acting for all the world like if he pretended Jaune wasn't there, he wouldn't have to die. Would saying he didn't plan to kill him even matter?

"Oi."

The man flinched. "Y-Yes, sir?"

"Go back down to the lobby when I reach floor three. You can leave when you do. Go home."

The bellboy started to weep quietly, frame shaking. Jaune sighed and closed his eyes, giving up the attempt. He obviously thought it cruel mockery before he was to be executed, like a spider toying with its prey by pulling its wings off one by one.

No one would believe him, whether he said they wouldn't die or whether he went out his way not to hurt anyone who wasn't involved. It literally didn't matter. Mom always used to say actions spoke louder than words, but apparently some people had louder voices. When Atlas said you were guilty, it didn't matter if you proved them wrong. They decided what was real and what was not.

_Nothing I do matters. It never has. It didn't matter to Atlas, it didn't matter to Blake and it doesn't matter to this man here, or anyone in Vale. Kill a hundred people and I'm a psychopath. Dedicate my life to rescuing abused children and I'm a psychopath._

It. Did. Not. Matter.

Only Amber did. Only Amber.

The elevator pinged as it reached the third floor, and the bellboy reached open to push the button and open the door.

The hotelier died.

Blood splashed over Jaune's chest and face, blown back out the man's body as gunfire ripped into and through him. What bullets pierced through ricocheted off Jaune's aura, some down, some up and some back into the corpse of the man sent staggering back into him. Jaune stared over the dying or dead man's shoulder, eyes narrowing on two men in full black armour wielding submachineguns.

It didn't matter what he did, who he tried to spare or what he tried to prove, because at the end of the day he was one person and Chivalric Arms were a wealthy company. Their word matter more than his did.

Something snapped.

Dully, Jaune was aware that it was probably his mind.

/-/

Roman puffed and panted as he hurried up the marble staircase, one hand on the banister and swinging himself around the corners. Emerald was on his heel and doing a little better than he was, showing either how old he was or how unfit. He had Melodic Cudgel tucked under one arm and was using his hand on the railing to spin himself round another corner and pass the sign boldly marking the third floor ahead.

"Why did he go on his own?" Emerald asked, wishing Roman would speed up. "Is he an idiot?"

"His Semblance," Roman yelled back. "It's as useful as getting us killed as his enemies. If there's fighting, don't fight near him," he warned. "You'll only open yourself up to getting shot. Stick back or go for people shooting at us."

His Semblance again. Emerald hissed under her breath. If only _her_ Semblance was that useful, Cinder would never need anyone else. "If he dies Cinder will have our heads!"

The third floor landing came up quickly and Roman paused to catch his breath, hands on his knees. The fire doors were shut but would open with a push. Emerald placed her hand on one and then froze as a gunshot cracked down the hall.

"Ah, fuck me," Roman whined. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"He might need our help!" Emerald said.

"He won't," Roman said miserably.

It was like Roman didn't even care about the person who got him out of a cell. Emerald scowled his way and pushed through the door, foot splashing down on the carpet. Splashing? Her head tilted, left foot rising to check her sole for dog foul, only to realise the puddle she was in was bright red and spilling across the hall. Emerald didn't scream, but only because the sound got trapped in her throat.

The dead body lay on its side, curled toward her with arms limply laying on either side of her legs. It was a man, she thought – hard to tell with the gasmask – and that signalled strong enough that it wasn't some random civilian. The guy had a submachinegun at his side, a belt with a pistol holstered and several grenades attached. All of that paled in comparison to the three holes in his back from which his lifeblood had already stopped running. The red trails down his uniform told her it had been.

_CRACK!_

Emerald flinched, but the noise was distant. Stepping over the dead body, hearing Roman cursing a bloody storm behind her, she picked her way past two closed doors to the corner of the corridor. The first thing she saw was the open elevator and the dead bellboy inside. The walls and floor of it were smeared with blood like someone had stuck a person in a blender and set it to max. It was honestly like a scene from one of those cheap horror flicks Mercury liked so much. Emerald silently promised to never insult him over those again and wasn't sure she could watch them without flinching now.

Reaching the intersection where the corridors split off from the elevator, she looked around in time to see Jaune Arc stood with his foot on a person's chest. They were alive, she noted. Wounded and bleeding, but clutching one hand to their stomach, their own weapon discarded and laying by their side. Jaune wasn't wounded.

_Thank fuck for that. Cinder would be furious if he died. He got a prisoner, too. That's good. I can use my Semblance to-_

Jaune Arc's finger drew back on the trigger.

_CRACK!_

The soldier's body bucked once and lay still, the hand he'd been holding to his stomach flopping off and to the side. Emerald stared, mouth dry and brain for a moment empty. Even at her worst, she didn't think she'd ever seen Cinder coldly execute someone. The sound of her swallowing echoed in her ears.

"W-What was that for!?" she demanded, wishing her words didn't stutter. "I can't use my Semblance on a dead body. Isn't the whole point of this to make them aware your sister is trapped in Beacon, you stupid psychopat-"

Jaune Arc turned around.

Emerald's words turned to ice on her lips. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and cold and for a moment looking like they didn't see _her_ but just someone else he could kill. There was blood splashed up his chest, face and arms, but it obviously didn't bother him. He was breathing lightly. Enough to show he was warmed up and had been running, but not enough to even suggest panic or even excitement.

He looked bored. No, not bored, that implied he wanted to stop and do something else. Resigned implied he'd given up on not, and that didn't fit either. He looked… He looked natural. He looked like this was his default position, like when Cinder frowned without realising it, a natural state of being that didn't mean anything other than that it was her relaxed stance when she let her guard down.

All of a sudden, she realised why Roman didn't bother worrying about him. More than that, she understood why Roman sounded so resigned, so tired, and honestly, though he tried to hide it, why it sounded like Roman subtly hoped Jaune Arc _would_ die. In that moment, she found herself wishing he'd died as well.

This man, this monster, would drag them all down with him.

"Chivalric Arms were expecting us."

It took her a moment to realise he was talking to her, mostly because his voice was so out of place. People should sound a little more _involved_ when they were stepping off the body of someone they'd killed. Even a nutjob like Mercury at least had the heart to sound _pleased_ when he murdered someone. In the most morbid sense possible, she'd rather her killer enjoy the act of ending her life than give as few shits as Jaune Arc did.

"W-What?" she stammered, flinching out his way when he came near. Her back pressed into the wall of the corridor to let him pass.

"This was meant to be staff and security. It's their special forces, and they were waiting for me."

"We had no hand in that! Cinder wasn't aware!"

"I know." He looked to her with his brows drawn down, more curious as to why she sounded defensive than upset. It was so baffling she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "This was clearly a trap laid by them for me. They knew I'd come looking for them, so they rented out a floor and set a trap here. Where's Roman?"

"B-Behind. He's catching his breath…"

"Hm. I guess we don't really need him for this."

He reached down and tried a door handle. It rattled but held still. Without a word, he brought his gun up and fired three times around the handle. One echoed with a more metallic impact through the thick wooden door, and when he tried the handle again, the door swung inward. He stepped in with his gun held out, and Emerald followed, more because Cinder needed her to plant the knowledge of Amber being in Beacon in someone's head than because she wanted to watch how Jaune Arc hurt someone.

Luckily for both her and said metaphorical people, there was no one inside the room.

"They must have moved their staff out." Emerald said. "Even if they're pure evil, it's just inefficient to get your people killed when they don't need to be." A sickening thought ripped through her stomach. "Wait, what if this place is rigged to blow!?"

"It isn't."

Excuse her if the words of a serial killer with absolutely no reason to know that didn't convince her. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm too valuable to burn to a crisp or crush under rubble," he explained quietly, leading her out the door and shooting his way through the one opposite. Like the first, it was empty. "Chivalric Arms would rather have me alive so they can pick me apart, clone or force me to inseminate other people. Use my body for their own ends. Even if they did want me dead, they'd do it in a way that didn't damage my body like explosives would."

"H-How are you so blasé about that?"

"It is what it is," he said. "We're not going to find anyone to use your Semblance on."

Crap. Well, she couldn't say this was entirely his fault if it was a trap. The CA soldiers wouldn't have stopped unless they were killed, and she wasn't sure what else he could have done. Hopefully, Cinder would understand and give them a second chance.

Bright white light suddenly shone in through the third floor window, streaking down the corridor and blinding them all. Jaune grunted and held an arm up before his eyes, while Emerald swore and checked her bandanna, pulling it tight over her jaw and nose. Outside, the spotlight of a Bullhead was beaming through the window. Several more came on, loud clacking sounds from outside as beams of light rose up and into the air before being levelled on their windows from down below.

"_Jaune Arc."_ a loud and powerful voice boomed, amplified through a megaphone or speaker system. Roman had just caught up with them and swore viciously. _"You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up and surrender, or we shall send teams inside to dislodge you."_ The voice paused before continuing. _"There is still time to end this peacefully."_

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Roman bent his cane over his knee. "This is it. We're done. I never should have shacked up with you."

Emerald didn't feel much better, but she wasn't ready to give up either. If she could find her way to a higher floor, she could use her Semblance to convince a family to see her as one of theirs or sneak out with the evacuees and trick an Atlas soldier into seeing her as wounded. There were ways out yet, though she couldn't say the same for them.

Jaune Arc approached the window and looked out. She did behind him, wincing at the sight of what looked to be six military vehicles stood before at least forty police cars. Bright lines were shining up, while four Bullheads hovered nearby and General James Ironwood himself stood at the bottom of the steps, lit by a spotlight from one of the Bullheads, with a megaphone in hand. She'd hazard a guess the sodding Vanguard itself was floating above the hotel with a whole flipping battalion stationed and ready to go.

"Would that do…?"

Emerald felt she could be forgiven for the stupid "Bwuh?" sound she made toward Jaune.

"For a scene," he explained. "Cinder wanted us to make a scene. Will this do?"

For the life of her, she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Y-Yeah. I think it'll do… b-but what about convincing CA to look into Beacon? That's Atlas out there. They're not the same."

"No, but they'll be watching, won't they? Watching to see what happens to their precious Subject 000 and if they need to steal me away from Atlas." Jaune turned away from the window, eyes narrowing on the closest body on the floor.

"Are you kidding? The whole world will be watching this…"

Jaune Arc smiled. There was no warmth in it.

"Good."

/-/

"This is General James Ironwood speaking. Come out and surrender. I will personally assure you a fair trial, legal representation and a chance to plead your case. Come out peacefully. There is still time to make this right."

James lowered the megaphone and sighed angrily. His eyes roamed over the nearby civilians stacked by open-backed ambulances, paramedics checking them over for any injuries. So far there were none, and while he liked to think that spoke well of their chances today, his gut instinct suggested otherwise.

Winter stepped up to his side. "Sir."

"Report."

"We can't reach the upper floors for fear of causing a confrontation," Winter reported. "Our men are stationed on the first floor staircases, more ready to enter through the roof. I've instructed both teams to hold lest we spark gunfire. Upper teams are ordered to secure and extract civilians to the roof for airlift and prioritise holding the stairs over any engagement. Vine Zeki has liaised with the hotel management and has accessed a way to call phones on upper floors. We have a team of people going through each phone to instruct families to stay in their rooms and not come out unless they receive a given password verbally through the door."

"Good work, Specialist."

The panic couldn't be stopped in its entirety and some people on floors fifth and up were waving their hands out the window pleading for rescue. He wished he could shout up to them, but it would only place them in worse danger. None had jumped, which was a welcome relief. That kind of drop wouldn't be halted by netting. Still, it was hard to ignore their pleas, even though they seemed to think rescue was as simple as a Bullhead hovering next to their window.

"Keep the police back," he ordered her. "This is to be a military operation. They'll be massacred if they go in. If they cause problems, push them toward extraction and let them busy themselves protecting the civilians."

"Sir." Winter saluted. "Do you think he will surrender, sir? He _is_ surrounded…"

A window shattered outward and something hurled into the open air to be immediately cast in shadow by the bright spotlights angled upward. It hurtled down, tumbling and turning before striking the marble steps at the front of the hotel and exploding in a gory shower of blood and bone with a meaty _splat_.

Onlookers screamed. Those fools who were clamouring by the tape to watch the siege of the hotel like it was some kind of soap drama suddenly realised just how real it was and began to scatter. Police swore and aimed their guns upwards, and soldiers had to hold paramedics back from rushing forward and risking their lives to check on what was quite clearly a very dead person.

No scream, James told himself. The man hadn't died from the impact.

"No, Winter," he said conversationally, "I don't think he will…"

* * *

**Memories of Hellsing Abridged, I guess. I'd say Hellsing Ultimate, but honestly my experience in a lot of anime nowadays really is their abridged series. They just do it better, especially SAO Abridged. What an amazing character study that was despite it's ridiculous comedy. I genuinely started to feel for Kirito as a real, messed up person.**

**Anyway, speaking of messed up people. Jaune. I've heard it said and learned in my psychology A-level (not sure what equivalent grade that would be in the US) that sorrow and anger aren't where a person is most likely to break, but hope. People break either when they are forced to place all their hope in one thing, or when they run out of hope. Jaune is fast running out of people he feels he can have any hope in. Atlas let him down, Blake let him down, basic concepts such as justice have let him down and now even Beacon has let him down. He knows he can't trust Roman or Cinder either, so there's no hope in him there. The only thing he has left is the prospect of saving Amber and then, through means he doesn't himself know, everything just sort of working out. A very literal step 1) save Amber, step 2) ? and step 3) profit scenario.**

**Jaune is breaking. Null is ascending. **

**This is probably the point in a kinder series where he would find solace in the warm grasp of Pyrrha Nikos, be supported by his friends and healed. Who are his friends in this story again? Oh yeah, Adam and Blake...**

**No wonder he's messed up...**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 21****st**** September**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	32. Chapter 32

**Please ignore the troll spamming offensive guest reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 32**

* * *

Armed units were in the building, coming from below as well as above – Jaune wasn't sure if he was meant to have not figured that out, but the Bullheads flying above the building made it somewhat obvious. They were surrounded, trapped and now the centre of attention. This would be broadcast across all of Vale, maybe even the world.

He hoped his sisters weren't watching. That was the only wish he'd ask of the uncaring world.

Don't let them see this.

"We're fucked!" Roman shouted shrilly, stomping around like a money and stamping on his own hat. "Is that what this is? Some glorious swan song? You planning to go out and take people with you to show the world how fucking edgy you are!?"

"I hadn't planned on it."

"You haven't _planned_ on shit!"

"I plan on surviving," Jaune said, glaring at the normally pliant man. He couldn't really blame Roman losing his nerve now, if he'd ever really had it. "I can't save Amber if Atlas kills me here. I need you for that, too, along with Cinder. That means neither of you can die. Emerald, come. I need you ready to use your Semblance."

_If there is a god out there, please don't let my sisters see what I've become._

/-/

Winter led her unit up the stairs, herself in the lead despite General Ironwood's warnings. Even if her aura might not be any match, her training had to mean something. Leaving her sabre sheathed, she held a submachine gun in one hand, a far more realistic threat against Jaune Arc's Semblance. Her own, normally so versatile, would be meaningless. The tell-tale signs of Schnee glyphs appearing in the air would give him all the time he needed to cut her off, and even if she created her summons from a distance, they would dissipate on coming close. He was a perfect counter to her Semblance, but she was more than just that.

"Stay close and in formation," she told the six soldiers behind her. Jasper and Cardamon weren't present, each leading their own teams on the upper floors. General Ironwood planned to approach from the elevator, scaling the connecting ropes as soon as he could. "Remember, his Semblance is most useful when he can sow chaos and pick us off one by one. Stay together and cover one another, and he won't have a safe moment to activate it."

Nods and the occasional "yes ma'am" were her answers, the men and women flicking safeties off and hunching their shoulders, barrels tipped down in readiness for storming the corridor beyond. The second team, those that infiltrated from the upper floors, remained on the level above, positioned kneeling and sat atop the staircase, weapons aimed down and ready to prevent any escape up or down from the targets.

They would not enter with them. More men didn't mean better odds, especially in close quarters fighting in hotel corridors where manoeuvrability would be limited. Her team was elite enough for the task, and theirs was only to keep Jaune Arc in place and the civilians above protected.

Winter laid a hand on the door and checked them over one last time, before taking a deep breath and bursting through.

The lights were off. They hadn't been on their way up. Winter knelt and covered left while a soldier did the same behind her, calling "clear" before the others filed out. Torches were activated, shining beams of light down the dark corridors thick with musty air and the stench of dust. There'd been a gunfight here. Something there should not have been if Jaune Arc had really targeted civilians as the Council of Atlas would no doubt be claiming.

"Ma'am," a soldier whispered. "Bodies. Two O'clock – fifty, maybe sixty metres down."

Winter could make out nothing but then that was why faunus were so valued in her corps. "Milner, Simons. Cover our rear. Everyone else ahead. Stay together."

The unit of seven paced slowly down the corridor, two moving backwards with their guns trained on the empty corridor behind, ready to lay down pinning fire to prevent Jaune Arc using his Semblance if necessary. Volume of fire meant more than placed shots. If you filled the air with enough dust rounds, he wouldn't feel safe taking anyone's aura down.

They reached the bodies soon enough. Two of them, both in black armour, armed and very much dead. Winter waved her hand ahead, signalling them into a formation around the deceased so that she could holster her SMG on her hip and kneel down. The unease at seeing death was a distant thing by now, and she ran her fingers over their throats. A knowingly hopeless but routine gesture just in case. There were no pulses from either of them.

"Sir." Winter touched and activated her comms. "We have bodies on the first floor, confirmed non-civilians. Military personnel, unknown armour and unmarked weaponry. Positions suggest a gunfight in the corridors."

"_Noted, Specialist._" General Ironwood replied. _"Secure their bodies for extraction. We will have our answers today. Are there any markings that would denote them as Chivalric Arms?"_

"None, sir. Blank patches and no discernible tags. Forensics will find more."

"_Continue on, then, but be careful-"_

One of her men shouted suddenly. The fierce crack of automatic gunfire sent Winter diving down over the bodies, scrabbling for her weapon as someone cried out in pain and slammed back into a wall. Cries and orders were shouted, followed by another short crack and a grunt, then deafening silence as the ringing in her ears died out.

"Weapon down!" someone ordered, stepping over her and planting his gun against the breastplate of another soldier. "Drop your weapon, private!"

Said private was leaning against a wall, bleeding from a wound in his left arm and holding his gun barrel down. It was smoking badly. Winter tracked the angle back and swore, noticing another of her own soldiers slumped against the other wall riddled with bullets and very, very dead.

"He was a traitor-" the wounded soldier tried.

"Drop. Your. Weapon!"

He did so, laying it down and stepping away, kneeling back against the wall as another rushed forward to take and drag it away. Someone helped Winter up and she approached, face drawn with anger.

"Explain yourself, soldier! You opened fire on a friendly-"

"He was about to shoot you!" the young man said, gripping his arm. "Specialist, ma'am, he turned and aimed his gun right at your back!"

Another traitor, and among her own troops? They'd gone through all their records, though. The Ace-Ops had personally vetted each and every one of them. How had Chivalric Arms infiltrated her own units so easily?

"Bullshit." Another soldier grunted angrily. "Lieutenant Wyte had his weapon trained on the corridor ahead. He didn't even _see_ his death coming. You lying piece of shit!"

Winter looked around. More of her men were nodding than not, and those that weren't obviously hadn't seen what was going on. The consensus was clear; Lieutenant Wyte hadn't tried to shoot her and had instead been gunned down by a private.

"W-What?" said private whimpered. "B-But he tried to kill you! I swear! I _saw_ him turn. I _saw_ him level his gun at your back!"

"Cuff him." Winter said forcefully. "Treat his wound while you're at it. I don't want-"

"Look out!"

Milner tackled Simons suddenly, knocking the surprised and entirely unprepared man back into the wall and then wrenching him to the floor. The startled Simons tried to fight his aggressor off, but Milner had the better strength and position, wrestling his gun away and planting his arm over the other man's throat. Simons began to choke and flail his arms.

"What the fuck, Milner!" another soldier said, rushing over to haul him off. "What are you doing?"

"He pulled a sidearm and aimed it at Winter!" Milner cried. "Didn't you see?"

"I-I didn't!" Simons said, rubbing his neck.

This time, Winter could confirm. "He didn't. Calm down, Milner. Baker, release him. Everyone stand still – don't move." Once she was sure they were, Simons pushing himself to the closest wall to massage his neck, she spoke again. "Milner. Tell me clearly. What did you see?"

"M-Ma'am." He saluted nervously. "I was keeping my eyes back as instructed when I saw Simons turn away. He rounded on the lot of you, pulled out his handgun and aimed it at your back. I was close enough to incapacitate and acted immediately."

"Private," Winter said softly. "Simons' sidearm is still in its holster."

Milner looked down his squad mate's leg and staggered back, eyes wide behind his visor and mouth opening wide. "N-No. But I saw – I saw…"

"Hostile Semblance Protocols!" Winter barked. Her men swore and closed ranks quickly, weapons pointed in every direction. "Vision-based illusionary Semblance. Uncuff the private; this was no murder attempt. Someone is making us see things that don't exist. Do not trust your eyes."

"This isn't Null…" someone whispered nervously.

"Consider that a good thing, private. If this is targeting us, then it means our auras are secure."

"If that's the case then why didn't Wyte protect himself?"

Because Null had activated in time to rob him of aura, and while it had undoubtedly cancelled whatever Semblance was affecting them, it had been switched on and off quickly enough not to make it obvious. Which means Null was close enough to be within its fifteen metre radius, close enough to time his Semblance perfectly, and close enough to _hear_ when the first shot was fired.

"Scatter!" Winter shouted.

The adjoining wall beside them exploded outward in a ball of explosive fire, blasting over Winter's body and launching her back. Her aura flickered and died, ripped away from her, and she could only cover her face with both arms and hope for the best. Her back struck the opposite wall. Her head cracked back. Stars danced and her vision went black, but she rolled left and threw herself down either way, trusting training over anything else. Gunshots echoed – where, she couldn't tell – the explosion had robbed her of any sense of balance and her ears and brain were ringing.

A trap. The bodies had been a trap, Jaune Arc waiting in the nearest hotel room where he could activate his Semblance through the thin walls. They hadn't even realised. They'd been stopping to talk while he'd been listening in through the wall.

Winter landed between two dead bodies and was grateful to find they were Chivalric's when her vision cleared. Ignoring the connotations and rolling onto her back, she brought the SMG up and scanned her immediate surroundings. The sounds of gunfire were continuing the opposite direction to the way they came, and that might well mean Null was chasing her team down. His Semblance required proximity, so he wouldn't let up on the aggression. He couldn't afford to.

_You're not killing my team, Jaune Arc!_

Staggering up, Winter was about to chase after them when she heard a scream from the end of the corridor. It was followed with gunfire and a soldier calling out, "Ma'am! Contact!"

A hostage. That was Jaune Arc's way out. He wanted a hostage.

Cursing again, Winter brought her SMG up and hurried to the top of the corridor, slowing down by the corner to creep her way around, barrel trained on the corner in preparation to fire. Corners were dangerous at the best of times, but when a cancellation of your Semblance could be waiting around it, they got a whole lot worse. The sound of scuffling and fighting increased around it, now two people on the floor by the noise. If he wanted to take someone alive, he couldn't shoot them. This could be her opportunity to catch him where he couldn't activate his Semblance.

_Have the rest of the team already been killed? Please no. I can't have led them to their deaths._

Taking a deep breath, Winter slammed a foot down and pulled around the corner, gun aimed down and at… nothing? An empty corridor, dark and foreboding with curtains fluttering. The noise of scuffling and wrestling continued but did so what could only be a few feet in front of her, where nothing existed.

"Nice work, kid." a voice behind her said. "Guess you're not as useless as you look."

Winter's world exploded into pain as a metal pipe impacted her skull, driving her down onto one knee and tipping the gun from her hands. Legs buckling, she looked back, catching the brief sight of Roman Torchwick and some hooded and masked figure half his height stood in the corridor, stood where no one had been, at a point where she must have walked inches by them. Torchwick had his signature weapon in hand, raised up high and already swinging in.

"Nighty-night."

/-/

Blake bit her fingernails as she watched the live report on her scroll, volume low so that Ruby wouldn't be woken up. Her team leader was exhausted after a day of trying to keep her spirits up in the face of her paralysis, no easy task. The last thing she needed was to hear or see what Jaune was doing now, but Blake couldn't look away.

Could she have stopped this? Had she caused this?

Jaune would have come to Vale anyway for his mother, but this kind of escalation was far too violent for the hurting boy she'd known. Even if Jaune had been angry and vengeful at the time, he wouldn't have done something like this.

_Did we break him? Did I break him…?_

Or had he been broken long ago when Chivalric Arms took him prisoner and stripped away his humanity? It was impossible to know for sure but taking over an entire hotel was so out of character for him. They weren't going to have any of his sisters there. Come to think of it, there should only be one sister left now. Amber Arc. All the others were accounted for.

_Amber must be in Vale. There's no other reason why Jaune would stay here._ Revenge on them was all well and good, but she didn't think he'd prioritise that over his youngest sister. He could always save her and _then_ come back for revenge. Vengeance could wait; Amber Arc could not. _He must have an idea where she is. I really doubt it's a hotel, though._

Yang and Weiss weren't interested in knowing more. It was inevitable that in the telling of her story and how she met Jaune, talk of the horrific experimentation done on him would come to light, along with the existence of Chivalric Arms, but neither of them cared for sympathy. To be fair, it was too late for Jaune to ask it after what he'd done. Ruby would never walk or move again, Yang's hand was split in two and Weiss was visibly scarred for life. While they agreed Chivalric Arms were bad, they considered Jaune worse. Blake couldn't say she blamed them.

Right now, they were doing shifts, looking after Ruby in a pattern because Miss Goodwitch wanted Yang and Weiss to get out in the fresh air and sunlight where they could recover. If Yang had her way, she'd be handcuffed to Ruby and sleeping in the same bed, but that wouldn't help Ruby feel any better about the situation.

What had was her uncle, Mr Qrow, coming to visit her and keep her entertained with funny stories and jokes. He, at least, seemed to understand that Ruby didn't need to be cried over, that pity would only make her feel worse. He kept her laughing and giggling for all of the four hours he'd spent at her side, with only Blake able to see how much the sight of Ruby in a medical bed pained him. Her father had come, too, but been a lot less calm about it, alternating between crying as he held onto her and promising to hunt down the one responsible.

Ruby nearly had a full-blown panic attack at that. It took Mr Taiyang promising to go _nowhere_ near Jaune Arc to make her calm down. Blake knew why, even if Ruby's father didn't. Ruby was terrified that anyone who went near Jaune would die.

Ironically, it was Ruby who took the most from her stories of Jaune, listening intently and never once responding with anger or worse, satisfaction, at the tale of his torturous treatment. That wasn't to say she forgave him – Ruby was sweet, but no saint or idiot – but she seemed to glean some understanding from why he was so violent, even if she knew he had to be stopped. Ruby had also been the only one to smile and tell Blake that this wasn't her fault.

Blake still felt guilty for how much of a relief that was.

The door to the infirmary opened and a man in a white doctor's suit entered. Youngish, but not too young, he looked like an intern or junior doctor and his nametag suggested as such. He came over and set a small silver briefcase down on the table by Ruby's bedside, opening it to reveal a chilled interior in a puff of white frost. The cold air woke Ruby up, making her shiver and yawn.

"W-What's going on…?"

"We need to take a little of your blood, Miss Rose. Just for testing."

Blake muted her scroll and set it face-down on the side, turning to look the doctor's way. He had a syringe out, the needle absent, but there was a sterilised packet with a needle inside that she could see in the container.

"Is this for her treatment?" Blake asked.

"It is. General Ironwood's orders." The man opened the packet and secured the needle in place.

Ruby shuddered. "I don't like needles…"

"I'd be surprised if you can even feel the needle."

Blake scowled, indignant beyond belief. How could he just throw a reminder of Ruby's condition in her face like that? Yes, she was paralysed and couldn't feel her limbs, but a doctor shouldn't take such a blunt approach with a patient.

"Yeah, I guess I can't…" Ruby said miserably.

The needle slid into her arm without problem and any reaction from Ruby. Blake looked away, uncomfortable with the sight of blood being drawn even if that made no sense given her profession. There was always something about blood tests that made it worse than a wound, strange as that sounded. Her eyes remained on Ruby's face instead, taking in the similar discomfort there as Ruby turned her head away, laid back so small and pale among the overly large white cushions.

The drawing didn't take long. The man withdrew the needle, removed it and then capped out the glass vial, setting it down in the cooler case alongside the disassembled syringe. He dabbed her arm, laid it back down atop her sheets and clipped the case shut.

"Will we find out if there's anything that can be done for her?" Blake asked.

"The chief medical officer will let you know." he replied. "I'm only an assistant."

"What are you looking for in the blood?" Ruby asked tiredly.

"Abnormalities that might have caused your current condition. Again, I'm just doing as I'm told – you'll need to ask the chief medical officer for more information." He moved to the head of Ruby's bed, undoing the clippings to the wall. "I'm also to take her for an X-ray. The skeletal damage she sustained may give answers. Prosthetics have come a long way. There is hope she might walk yet."

"T-There is?" Ruby stammered.

"Of course. General Ironwood was able to recover the loss of an arm and half his torso."

Imagining Ruby as half cyborg was honestly a little painful, but it was a pain she'd put up with if it made her team leader happy. "Are there plans for that in place?"

"You would really need to ask the chief medical officer. It's her decision and she doesn't share patient information with junior doctors." Confidentiality. Blake nodded understandingly. The man pushed Ruby's bed from the wall and stepped behind it. "You can ask her now if you like," he told Blake. "I'm fairly certain she's in her office."

"That's Doctor Snow?" Blake asked, remembering the sharp woman Ironwood had taken her to meet.

"Doctor Alexandra Snow, yes."

Ruby looked so hopeful that Blake didn't hesitate to nod and stand. Anything that Ruby might grasp onto for a chance to move again was worth the small amount of effort it would take to ask the woman in person.

"Alright. Will you be okay, Ruby?"

"Mm. I'll be fine."

"I shall have her to an X-ray machine and back within half an hour," the doctor promised.

Blake watched Ruby go and hid a small sigh into her hand. Doctors had been coming and going for the last few days over her, though most were just to replenish her drip and check on her. This was the first time anyone had suggested further testing, and it was a relief to see them taking it so seriously. Blake made her way out the ward and down the corridor, over to Doctor Snow's office and pushed the button on the door. It beeped on the inside and Blake tried to see through the slatted window. A shadow could be made out at the desk. The intercom buzzed.

"_What is it?"_ a waspish voice demanded. _"I'm busy."_

"It's Blake Belladonna. Ruby Rose's teammate? I'm here to ask about her condition."

There was no answer and for a moment Blake felt her temper rise, thinking the woman had decided to lock her out. The door buzzed and opened a few seconds later, however. Blake let her anger go and stepped in, quickly noticing the woman swamped in paperwork.

"Well?" she snapped. "Sit down or stand there and speak your piece. I don't have all day."

A very busy medical officer responsible for the lives of many, Blake reminded herself. Not a rude or mean woman lashing out because she wanted to. "It's about my teammate, Doctor Snow. I was hoping to talk to you about her."

"Ruby Rose, yes? The other two are already up and about. I have Jacques Schnee threatening us with a lawsuit for medical malpractice, so I know for a fact that girl is fine."

"Weiss wouldn't-"

"What she would do matters little if the lawyers are banging on our door. It's not for you to worry about either way. Speak. I don't mean to sound harsh, but I have to prep for what is undoubtedly going to be a bloody night. I'm sure you've seen the news."

The hotel. Right. Doctor Snow would be getting more patients soon enough.

"It's about Ruby's paralysis."

"Her inability to walk," Doctor Snow said without looking up. "Yes, it was a possibility. I did warn you. The damage to her lower body may have robbed her of it, though it's still too early to know if that will be permanent or not. I've already given Beacon a recommendation for physiotherapy courses, but even then, it's unlikely she will regain mobility fast enough to be a huntress-"

Walking. Was that all Doctor Snow thought it was? Tears burned at Blake's eyes and her temper rolled back up, overcoming her mouth before she could hold it back. The words tumbled out, bitter and angry.

"Her _full body paralysis!_ It's not just her legs!"

Doctor Snow's head snapped up. Her eyes were thin slits. "Excuse me?"

"Ruby is completely paralysed!" Blake sobbed. "Do you not even _care_ to look at your patients? It's not just her legs. She can't move her arms or upper body; she can't _feel_ anything, and she isn't going to be able to move again-"

"That. Isn't. Possible."

Blake's tirade came to a slow, stumbling halt. "What…?"

"There was no damage to her spinal column that would have caused paralysis – that _could_ have caused it. I said as much, did I not? Extensive loss of blood that could have been fatal had she not been brought to us so quickly, the chance of infection that we immediately treated and the possibility that when she wakes up, she may be unable to walk. Where in that diagnosis I gave to both you and General Ironwood was mention of paralysis?"

Nowhere. Blake wracked her memory and kept trying to speak, but her mind brought nothing up. Through the haze of grief and pain, she could remember what Doctor Snow said. How Jaune might only have spared Ruby because he was too much an amateur to know how to kill her effectively. Two clumsy shots that, through sheer luck, spared her life.

Neither one hit her spine.

"B-But she can't move…"

"Then something is wrong," Doctor Snow said, voice clipped. Her chair scraped back, and she planted her hands down, pushing herself up. "Why was this not brought to my or General Ironwood's attention? You were responsible for her, girl!"

"I-I thought you would have been told!"

"General Ironwood is busy chasing a killer across the city. I am busy picking up the pieces."

"But your assistant!" Blake yelled. "He's been taking blood samples-"

"What blood samples? Why would I need blood samples? We know what happened to her already. I gave her a blood transplant the day she came in gushing lifeblood all over my floor. The _last thing_ I need from her is more blood."

It felt like her own had drained from her body. Blake stepped back, eyes wide. "T-Then you didn't order her to have an X-ray?"

Doctor Snow looked confused. "Why would I? You know as well as I do that the bullets didn't touch her spine. There's nothing to see. Miss Belladonna, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Blake screamed and smashed her way through the door, eyes bloodshot.

/-/

General James Ironwood knew something was wrong when he finally reached the bottom of the elevator and pushed up into it. The dead body within, a young man in hotel garb, wasn't even the start of it. James' eyes took in his injuries quickly and instantly decided it wasn't Jaune Arc who caused them. The spread of bullets, along with the blood splatter going backward, suggested someone had shot back into the elevator with an automatic weapon. It didn't match anything about their quarry, and instead corroborated Winter's report on an ambush.

More worryingly was the lack of any reports since, except that Winter's team had arrived back at the staircase lacking two of its members and with three more wounded, some by friendly fire. He'd picked up the mention of an illusion-based Semblance, which seemed to fit slightly with the one Team RWBY had detailed at the docks.

His senses could not be trusted. A truly terrifying thought.

He didn't have to look far either way. A seat had been set up down the corridor some thirty metres – well out of range of the Null Semblance, but also far beyond what Ironwood could cover in the time it would have taken for Jaune Arc to shoot Winter Schnee, the latter sat on the chair, hands tied behind her and head resting forward, chin on her chest.

James sucked in a deep and dangerous breath through his nostrils, aiming his weapon over her head at the unsmiling face of Jaune Arc.

"General Ironwood." Jaune, or Null, greeted him. "I wouldn't shoot if I were you."

"How do I know Winter isn't an illusion?"

Jaune Arc's eyes flashed a hew of colours for a brief second, too short a timeframe for him to have taken the shot, but enough to have broken any illusion Winter might have been. It was her alright. Still alive, too. He could see her chest rising and falling.

"For a man who has maintained his innocence, this isn't doing a good job of proving it." James said warily.

"Does it matter? Anything I do is twisted into me being a monster by you. Might as well let the stories be right for once."

"Not by me. By the Council, by politics, by Chivalric." Slowly, James lowered his weapon. It was a mostly meaningless gesture. The distance was great enough that he had his aura, so any shot taken on him wouldn't punch through. "I have been working to clear your name. Or I had been. I dare say that will be impossible after tonight. You've crossed a line, Arc. Not even I can fix this now. You've gone too far…"

The boy – more a man now, twisted beyond what a child should be – chuckled. He didn't look amused, more tired and worn, like someone who hadn't had enough sleep. Desperate. That made him more dangerous. He wasn't insane, not yet, but James felt certain it was only a matter of time until he cracked.

"I was too far the moment my father was murdered. I could have come out a saint, helping people across the world and saving the Kingdoms. It wouldn't have mattered. You want my Semblance. I'd have been labelled a terrorist either way. What's one family in the face of Atlas' reputation? What does the law matter in the face of that?"

"Atlas is corrupt. I admit that. That fact does not justify what you are doing now."

"I don't care." Jaune Arc placed a hand on Winter's shoulder. "All I care about is saving my family."

"What happens after, Jaune? Do you think you can go and live peacefully with them? You can't think that will happen, not after what you've done."

"And what's your suggestion, General? Surrender? Be executed? What is the alternative you want to offer me?"

James wanted to swear. He had nothing. Nothing at all. If Jaune Arc surrendered now, he'd be marched through a Kangaroo court before being executed or locked away, then mysteriously committing suicide before ending up back in a lab. The world would gloss over him, forgetting in an instant he existed while Chivalric Arms continued their experimentation. Thanks to both Ozpin and the Council of Atlas siding against him, he couldn't even offer the safety of working for him.

There was nothing he could offer. Jaune Arc _might as well_ fight and die because that would at least be a better fate than what else lay in store. They both knew that, which meant that for all his words and all his reasoning, there could be no peace.

"I'm the last person who wanted to fight you, Jaune Arc. I saw the evidence of what happened to you. I despised it. I've dedicated my efforts to trying to bring Chivalric Arms to justice. You may not believe me, but I wanted to prove your innocence. I wanted to do the right thing."

"You're right." Jaune said softly. "I don't believe you."

Ironwood closed his eyes.

"But," Jaune said. "in the small chance you're telling the truth." He sighed. "Thank you."

It shouldn't have been like this, James reflected. He'd hoped to face the boy and calm him down, win him over and use his connections with Ozpin to prove his innocence and expose Chivalric Arms. Instead, he was here with only two options. Kill him now or capture him alive and kill him later. Either way, Chivalric Arms would go free. The same corruption he so despised would fester in Atlas. In fact, they'd even managed to orchestrate it so that he had to be the one to put the boy down.

"What do you want?" James demanded. "You wouldn't have set Winter up like that without demands."

"I want Amber."

"Amber Arc?" he questioned. "I don't have her. I have Sable and Saphron, and they're safe. Amber Arc is the last remaining and still in the possession of Chivalric-"

"She isn't."

James frowned. "Isn't what?"

"Chivalric Arms doesn't have her. They lost her. The Bullhead that fled from Atlas was brought down over Vale and crashed down. Someone else found Amber and took her away, and that same someone is keeping her locked away. Chivalric are looking for her even now."

Was that true? There was no way to confirm it here, but Ironwood made a note to look into it. "If that's the case then you know I don't have her. Why bother asking something I can't deliver?"

"Because you know the person who does have her."

"Then why aren't you targeting them instead of a hotel like this!?" Ironwood barked. "Who has her? Depending on your information, I might be able to investigate, but I'm not letting you leave with Winter. I'll kill you myself before then."

"Ozpin. Ozpin has my sister."

On the chest of the dead body of a nearby Chivalric Arms soldier, an intercom switched off.

/-/

"Mr Fields, sir." The new clerk bowed his head and placed a hand over his chest. "We've located the missing subject. She is being kept in Beacon Academy, Vale."

"Really now? So, it was Ozpin who had her all along. I suspected as such. Well, that doesn't come as much of a surprise." Matthew Fields silenced the news report playing on the large screen and swivelled in his seat to the clerk at the door. Outside the windows, clouds rushed by as the private jet carried them onward. "In fact, it's quite exciting. I can't imagine anyone would keep the girl prisoner unless they saw some potential in her. My, oh my, I wonder if she has unlocked the Null Semblance herself. Two specimens of opposite gender provide some possibilities. We may be able to interbreed the gene and refine it."

"That will depend on whether it can be retrieved from the Headmaster of Beacon, sir. If she has unlocked her Semblance, he might not be prepared to give her up."

"Perhaps not. Perhaps." Matthew Fields chuckled. "But then, we have something he seems rather interested in as well, don't we?"

"Yes sir. The target, one Ruby Rose, is being delivered to a testing facility as we speak."

"Ruby Rose, hm. That's quite the name to have to remember. No, it just won't do. Let's call her Subject-S instead. Have the departments decided yet who will have her?"

"There's quite a scuffle for it, sir. Several have made requests. I've had proposals to harvest her eyes and split them between two departments as well. That may cause irreversible harm, however. I have told them they will have to wait for your decision."

"Acceptable. Let's see what dear Ozpin says first, why don't we? Null is much more interesting to our studies than some ocular mutation, and we have all the blood we would need from her. Tell the doctors they can harvest eggs if they wish. Even if we do hand her back, there's no reason we can't fertile an embryo and grow more."

The clerk bowed his head. "Yes sir. I'll get on that now."

Matthew Fields watched him go before turning back to the TV in his private room, leaning back and watching with a smile a replay of the moment one of his men was launched from the window and sent splattering down. The news crews had blurred out the damage, but he'd personally seen what an impact of that velocity could do to a body. It wasn't pretty.

Those men were well trained and equipped, and Subject 000 was ripping through them with ease. He could only imagine what trained soldiers of Atlas would do with that kind of firepower. They could take over Remnant, claim the world, bring peace and usher in a new age for humanity. An age where brave men and women could fight back against powerful huntsmen, bring about equality and focus their efforts on the real threat, the Grimm.

"You hold the power to reshape the world inside you, Jaune Arc," he said, saluting the screen with a glass of wine. "The next step in the evolution of man, our ascension to a new age. Hold on just a little longer, and soon I will be there to personally show you the way."

"_Mr Fields, sir. This is your pilot speaking. We are approaching Valean airspace and will land in fifteen minutes. Please ensure you are seated and secured."_

Finally. Matthew Fields leaned back with a smile.

It was time to put affairs in order.

* * *

**The big bad comes to Vale, Jaune reveals the truth of Ozpin and Ruby gets kidnapped. **

**Meanwhile, Salem in the Grimmlands with a curious frown on her face as she wonders if she even needs to do anything to bring about the end of the world. "Wow, these humans are really good at screwing themselves over. I should take lessons…"**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 28****th**** September**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	33. Chapter 33

**Ignore the troll spamming offensive guest reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 33**

* * *

Ozpin?

No.

It couldn't be. Could it? He'd been so cagey of late, switching from complete support in finding and redeeming the man stood before him to wanting his death, siding with the council and throwing away everything they'd worked for. No one did that without reason. Motivation was something important for a military officer to understand; not only in motivating your own people but understanding why your enemies were doing what they were, how to strike at their motives and how to break them apart.

Ironwood snarled through gritted teeth, levelling his gun on Jaune Arc and refusing to be swayed by words alone. Investigation would come later, but the first and most important part of a hostage situation was not letting the criminal take control. He was the one with the gun and, just as importantly, he was one of the few who could sway the man before him.

"Release Winter to me, Jaune. You don't want to do this."

"I don't." the boy said. "I really don't. But I will. I'll do whatever I have to."

"You don't have to do this to get your sisters back. Saphron and Sable are safe and free from Chivalric Arms – and yes, I know about them. They've attacked and killed my people as well. I dragged Matthew Fields to court. I have people watching his every move." James lowered his weapon and extended a hand. "Help me. Let me help you. We'll drag them down and find Amber. I can help you, Jaune, but only if you let me."

The piercing blue eyes lost a little of their sharpness. He didn't think Jaune Arc noticed it, but for the briefest of moments those deadly orbs trembled, hinting at a young man, really more of a boy, caught in a situation he had no understanding of, trapped between two sides that wanted him dead. A wild animal backed into a corner that knew it was dead but wanted to give its life dearly.

A frightened and hurting young man.

And then, they were swallowed up. His lids closed, and when he opened his eyes again, merely the space of a blink, they were hard and unyielding. Cold and full of bitter rage.

"If you'd found me a month back, I'd have jumped at the opportunity," he said. "It's too late now."

"It's never too late, Jaune."

"My father always used to tell me about Semblances. He'd say they're a big responsibility, son, something that can be used for good, evil or just to make your own life easier, but that, at the end of the day, they're nothing more than a tool. It's up to you to know where the line lays, and what it'll take to make you cross it."

James pushed back his own bitter thoughts, thoughts of what his own Kingdom, his own people, had done. "It's good advice. Your father was a wise man."

"He was. And he was gunned down trying to save my sisters and I from your people."

"Not mine," James stressed. "Never mine."

"The people you represent. The people you protect. Those people!" he spat, pointing his gun at the dead bodies of the CA agents laid across the floor. "You can say you're not with them all you want, but you're with Atlas, and Atlas has decided it's on their side. You can't promise me anything, can you? You can't even promise to keep Saphron and Sable safe, because the second Chivalric wants them they'll have your Council take them away from you. Make up some bullshit reason and order you to give them up, and you will. You'll have to. You're a soldier. Soldiers follow orders."

A good soldier did. James had always considered himself a good soldier, always been proud of it and proud of Atlas, the technological leader, the defenders of Remnant, the Kingdom of Tomorrow. Those self-proclaimed titles were held dear to everyone. Propaganda, he'd be the first to admit, but not lies. Not wrong. Atlas was all of those things.

He'd just never thought to ask how.

"Maybe you're a better person," Jaune said, bumbled, really, he was ranting and pointing. "But that doesn't matter. None of it does. If you side with them then you're siding with Chivalric." Ironwood flinched. _That_ stung more than any other accusation. "And that means you're siding against me."

It really was that simple, he supposed. Even if he could convince the boy to down arms, he couldn't guarantee him anything. Atlas would demand his head. Chivalric wanted the body. Ozpin. Well, he wasn't sure what Ozpin wanted, but he'd sure as hell be finding out.

"How does this end then, Arc? You waiting up here for me with Winter strapped to a chair. Are you going to kill her? She has a family, too. A sister who loves her. Maybe not as good a father and a mother as you had, but do you think it's fair to rip her away from them?"

"Was it fair for you to do it to my family!?"

"No." Ironwood replied calmly. "So, are you going to do the same? Going to show your Chivalric side?"

Jaune gritted his teeth. His eyes flashed gold momentarily, too short a moment for Ironwood to take the shot. By the time Null came, it was gone. The hand on the back of Winter's chair gripped down so hard the wood creaked.

"I want," Jaune said angrily, "To make a deal."

"Atlas won't deal with you. You know that."

"I'm not asking Atlas to make the deal. I'm talking to you."

That made the situation even more dangerous. "In your own words I'm nothing more than an obedient soldier. What makes you think I'd deviate from Atlas on this?"

"Because _I_ was nothing more than a boy who wanted to become a huntsman until my family was ripped apart. I wouldn't have ever thought of breaking the law, let alone killing people. Just as you wouldn't go against orders." The gun touched Winter's temple. "Unless you had something you were willing to go against orders for. Or someone."

"Winter is my subordinate. Nothing more."

"I guess you're the perfect soldier then. That means I can kill her and you won't bat an eye." The hammer pulled back. "Oh well. Sorry Winter."

Ironwood flung an arm forward. "Wait!"

Jaune Arc smiled.

James Ironwood swore.

/-/

The crowds outside shrieked as gunfire started once again. Police herded them back, many with riot shields to the front, while soldiers stood before, guns trained on the windows flashing with gunfire on the upper floor.

Clover pushed through, fighting his way past stunned soldiers and into the main foyer where the elevators and stairs were covered by fire teams. One was being used to bring huddling figures down and out, soldiers running with them, hands on their sides and escorting them out.

"Get the civilians out!" Clover ordered. "Prioritise the evacuation. Marrow! Marrow, what's happening with the top floors!?"

"Clover!" Marrow hurried up, the faunus pushing through the armed blockade on the staircase. He rushed up and snapped a quick salute. "Sir. The top floors are being escorted down the rear staircase. We've blockaded the floor the General and Null are on to keep them safe. We're bringing them out the back entrance into medical APC's."

"Blockaded? How?"

"Soldiers, shields and aura for the most part. Put enough bodies there that not even Null could break through. Vine is scanning the floors for any more civilians holing up, but the floor they're on was rented out entirely by Chivalric Arms."

"And their civilians?"

"None, sir. That's the thing. It's rented out by them, but the hotel staff don't remember any coming. I checked the records, however, and _they_ say the guests arrived and were booked in."

"Hacked. It has to be. You're sure the staff didn't see anything?"

"As sure as anyone can be when you're talking to people fearing for their lives. We can check the footage once this is all over." Marrow looked up as a fresh gunfight began and a large _boom_ echoed through the building. Fire blasted out a window, sending glass raining down on the foyer outside. Despite the fact the civilians were being held far enough back to be safe, they screamed and covered their faces.

"Assuming there's anything left of the building." Clover said.

"Why are those civvies this close?"

"Ask the VPD. We told them to push them back and the best they can do is form a cordon. Atlas MP would have had the area clear for three blocks by now. More if we asked nicely. Elm's right. These guys can't tell their asses from their elbows."

Marrow snickered, as much at the uncharacteristic insult as the joke. Clover wasn't normally one for mockery, but the situation certainly deserved it. Those civilians were just hovering around like they were watching street theatre, and if one caught a bullet for their stupidity then he was sure Atlas would be the ones blamed for it.

A fresh explosion sounded off to their left – still high up, but closer to their position. Brick rained down over the hotel's car park, a serious among of it sent falling down and shattering like frag grenades on the concrete, pelting nearby cars, smashing windows and sending car alarms blaring and beeping away. Clover strode toward it, signalling with one hand for a team to follow.

"Divert the non-coms to the front," he ordered Marrow. "I'll check this out."

Clover didn't get the chance. A body came crashing down into the car park, heavy enough to cause concrete to splinter. The white coat stained black told him who, even before Ironwood whipped it off and exposed his metallic arm, aiming his handgun up and firing at what must have been an opening in the wall.

"Sir!" Clover barked, hurrying over.

"Back!" General Ironwood roared, holding a hand out to stop him. "Focus on the civilians, Clover. That is an order!"

Gunshots cracked off the concrete and sent Ironwood diving for cover behind a flashing and blaring car, rolling over its bonnet to land by its back wheel. Boots on metal sounded outside, likely someone running down the fire escape, and from the angle of the gunfire he'd have placed the attacker on the first floor, practically just above ground and firing down. Clover's hand itched toward his rod.

Null. He was there.

"Clover!" Ironwood yelled. "The civilians! Get them out now!"

Damn it. Clover turned and rushed back to the doors before he could second guess himself. General Ironwood had the right of it of course; Atlas would be torn to shreds if their problem led to foreign citizens dying and given this was a hotel it was presumably full of people from every Kingdom in Remnant. They didn't need that kind of problem.

Marrow already had a stream of people coming out, many of them covered in sheets to hide their identities and prevent any panic. They were being ushered down a corridor of soldiers, flanked from any harm and guided toward several APC's parked on the front entrance, either driven up the steps or on the paved floor beside the fountain out front of the hotel. They'd be covered them from the gunfight now taking place on the ground floor. A quick look back showed General Ironwood still pinned, but Clover knew it was intentional.

The gunfire wasn't the real threat if Null was outside of fifteen metres. The real threat was Ironwood moving and causing the trajectory of bullets to place non-combatants in harm's way. He was pinned because he chose to be pinned in such a way that any stray shots would impact empty cars, concrete and the exterior wall of the private car park.

"E-Excuse me! Please!" The man's voice had Clover's head snapping toward an ajar door by the far wall, the opposite end of the lobby from the car park and what looked to be a staff-only door. "My wife is injured, please help."

"Shit." Clover tapped a soldier and nodded his head to follow, leaving the rest in line as he jogged over with his help in tow. "Sir," he called. "We're on our way. You're safe now. Don't worry-?" He pushed the door open only to come face to face with a child.

A girl. Blonde hair, bright green eyes and skin so pale he might have mistaken her for a Schnee. He'd have placed her at fifteen, maybe sixteen at best. He quickly looked away from her eyes, shaking the strange sense of oddness away and taking in the man in the room _and_ the injured woman. They were all three of them blonde and pale, and the man was down on one knee with a woman laid on the floor and her shoulders and head resting on his leg. Clover noted the door at the back and the staircase beyond.

"We found a way down through the staff's access," the man explained. "We got knocked off our feet when one of the explosions happened and my wife banged her head on a step. I didn't dare move with all the gunshots."

"You did the right thing in staying still, sir. Don't worry. You're safe now. Secure the injured," he ordered the soldier, who slowly moved forward and knelt, placing his hands under the woman's legs and shoulders to lift her up.

It wasn't how a soldier would normally carry someone – that being over the shoulder to allow a free arm for holding a weapon – but head injuries required more care and slinging her upside down could make it worse. The man stood behind the soldier, nervously wringing his hands together over the head of an orange walking stick. Clover's head tilted. The man didn't appear to have any difficulty walking that would require aid. A choked sound from his left had him looking to the girl. Her eyes were narrowed with what seemed to be pain and a thin trickle of blood had run down from her nose over her top lip.

"Is your daughter hurt?" Clover asked quickly.

"N-No," she forced out.

"Emma suffers from migraines," the father explained. "Please, can we get away from this place?"

"Yes. We have medical teams outside waiting for you. If you'll come with me, sir."

"What about that dreadful man? Isn't he out there still gunning people down?"

"We shall cover you the entire way," Clover said with all the patience he could muster. Training kicked in, drowning his irritation with state mandated politeness. "We're trained for this, sir. Please have faith in us and we'll see you and your family to safety."

"Yes. Well." The man hunched his shoulders and pulled his coat up to cover his face from the back and sides. The daughter did, too. Clover let them. If it made them feel better about the situation, he wouldn't argue. "Do lead on then, gentlemen. We'll be in your care."

Clover went first, peeking out and pleased to see the area more than secure. Null and Ironwood were fighting in the car park still, and it looked like battle had been joined on the floor now. That kept most people's attention that way, and the soldiers who had been forming a tunnel for civilians had been moved over by Marrow to form a wall facing that way, bodies linked and aura prepared to block any shots coming their way.

Motioning for the soldier carrying the wife to move, Clover followed with a hand on the girl's shoulder, trusting the father to keep up. They covered the distance between the office and the front windows, out into the cold night air and down the steps. Others were being ushered into APC's but the one the civilians were being led to looked much too full. Clover tapped the soldier's shoulder and pointed to a medical one to the side, diverting with the family toward it.

The soldier lowered the wife into the back, snapped a quick salute and then hurried back to the hotel to look for more. Clover nodded, pleased, and helped the girl up. She still looked to be struggling, no doubt terrified.

"You'll be safe now." Clover told them. "Please wait here so we can conduct an accurate register of everyone within. We want to make sure everyone is accounted for and safe. Our teams will look after your mother," he assured the girl. "You needn't worry."

Speak of the devil. Two medics came hurrying over with a green first aid box between them. They looked at the blonde woman in the back seat and then up to Clover with wide eyes and clear alarm. They must have thought she'd been shot or something.

"Head wound," he explained. "Possible concussion and more. There aren't any gun wounds. I'll leave her to you. Try and get her identity and make sure she's given a full check over-"

"Identity?" the one on the left stammered. "Sir, it's Winter Schnee."

/-/

The Council meeting was held in the Vanguard's communication room and saw the council members blown up on holographic images like leering angelic figures surrounding him. The only relief to Ironwood was knowing that was more a factor of where the projectors had been placed than anything. In their own locations, they, too, would feel like they were the ones surrounded. It helped a little, though the agonised twitching of his face as a bullet was removed from his arm – his good arm – didn't go unmissed by anyone.

"_James."_ Sol said, rare concern in his voice. _"You're injured."_

"_He's well enough for the meeting,"_ Jacques Schnee said snidely.

"_That's not your place to decide, Mr Schnee. James. Are you prepared to report?"_

Hissing as the bullet was removed and let fall into a tray of water, Ironwood gripped his seat. The medic soothed his arm with rubbing alcohol, and somehow the burning sensation was more pleasure than pain. As the suture began, he found his own happy place in glaring through Sol's spectral figure at the wall behind.

"As prepared as I can be."

"_Very well. Then report."_

"Jaune Arc escaped. Zero civilian casualties. We lost a few of our own."

"_More than a few from what I'm told,"_ a councillor remarked. _"There was a soldier thrown from the window onto concrete!"_

"Not one of ours." Ironwood stressed the words carefully. "They were rogue military agents who, after careful cross-referencing, were employed by Chivalric Arms."

"_Security for their personnel, no doubt."_

"Security bearing military weaponry authorised only to be used by Atlas."

"_Chivalric Arms are our main weapons manufacturer, General. Of course they'd have the same equipment. I really don't see the point-"_

"You do. You see the point damn well. You're just avoiding it."

"_General. You will not-"_

"_The General is in some distress."_ Sol said calmly. _"As you can well see, councillor. I'm sure you can forgive him for being brusque when he is having an open wound sewn shut before our eyes. General, we will look into this. Leave it with us. In the meantime, good work on conducting the raid and preventing any civilian fatalities. People are for the most part praising Atlas' quick response to the crisis and the manner in which it evacuated and protected the civilians."_

"Hngh." Ironwood nodded, leaning back as the medic tied and cut the thread.

"_The terrorist still escaped!"_ someone said.

"I was under the impression that it was more important to get the civilians out alive."

"_You-"_

"_Are correct."_ Sol interrupted again, glaring off to the side. _"General Ironwood took the correct course of action. We will not debate that."_

"_It works in our favour,"_ another said. _"As of today, the Council of Vale has accepted that their law enforcement forces are woefully unprepared for the threat posed by Jaune Arc and the White Fang. They have asked our aid in providing security for the Vytal Festival."_

Great. More responsibility. Normally he'd have been thrilled with the chance to clamp down, but they were being stretched thin as it was and this would cut into his investigations on Chivalric, as the Council well knew. James waved the medic away, sitting back as the door opened and closed behind him. He tugged on his coat, leaving it open over his bare and bandaged chest, listening with only half an ear as the Council went over how much of an honour and opportunity this was.

"_It will be your responsibility as the commanding officer on the scene, General."_

"Yes sir." James saluted lazily.

"_This is no laughing matter, Ironwood. Jaune Arc has decided to make himself an enemy of all four of the Kingdoms today. He's no longer a misunderstood youth acting out. He's a monster no better than the Grimm. We cannot let him cause a scene at the Vytal Festival, especially not with us being in charge of its security. Hunt. Him. Down."_

"With all due respect, it's what we've been doing for months, sir."

"_No. What you've been doing is going behind the Council's back incriminating companies that have already been cleared by thorough investigation. You have been chasing your own fantastical stories in the hopes of redeeming someone who is, simply put, irredeemable." _

"I personally have as a guest one woman who corroborates his story as being a victim of human experimentation."

"_Well of course his own family is going to agree with him,_" another person said. _"They're working together. I say that if she believes the nonsense she spouts, we should let her present her argument in court. The justice system will soon take care of it and silence these pointless conspiracy theories."_

"The girl is traumatised." Ironwood growled.

"_Then her words will be taken as the hysterical mumblings they are! Your job, General, is to follow orders. It is to serve the Kingdom to which you have sworn your loyalty. It is not to question us, it is not to hold your own inquisition and it is certainly not to sympathise with criminals. You should have killed him tonight. He should be dead already, so we can get to forgetting this sorry chapter in Atlas' history ever happened."_

"What of the illegal military elements found in the hotel? They were armed to the teeth and opened fire in a civilian centre. From our early investigation we know they shot first – and that they gunned down a hotelier."

"_That has not yet been established."_

"We found casings matching their weapons in the young man's body. They don't match Arc's. The shots came from them. They killed a Valean citizen."

"_That,"_ Sol stressed, _"has not been established. This meeting is concluded. You have your orders."_

The holographs winked out. All but one. Sol remained, standing firmly before James and looking down on him. Ironwood frowned, turning his head to the side to stare the man down. "I thought the meeting was over."

"_Officially. I thought you and I should chat."_

"I'm not in the mood."

"_Neither am I. Let's drop pretences then. You really need to stop going against the Council like this, James. I can't cover for you forever."_ Sol removed his military cap and set it down beside him. Off the hologram. _"I heard Arc has associates."_

"Two people," James replied. "According to Clover anyway. They masqueraded as a father and daughter with some kind of illusionary Semblance, and that corroborates with Winter's report on her defeat when she woke up later. They were trying to get Winter out, possibly as a hostage, but Clover panicked them into running after knocking him out."

"_Fortunate that he was there. It's his Semblance, isn't it?"_

"We believe so."

"_And the target escaped you after engaging in a gunfight? How did he get away?"_

"Destroyed a wall in a carpark and pushed into a crowd of people. I couldn't shoot without endangering them, and the panic caused by the gunfire gave him the perfect chance to get out. If Vale's police force wasn't so useless, we would have had that crowd contained."

"_The Atlas Military Police are the best in the world at their jobs. It's a shame Vale never followed our lead there. I hear there was a break in aboard the Vanguard, too."_

"You're hearing a lot lately, Sol."

"_I have my sources. Answer the question."_

"Ruby Rose, student of Beacon, taken from under our noses." Ironwood snapped out. He hadn't even begun going over that, but her team was ripping itself apart and Ozpin… Ozpin hadn't even contacted him. "I haven't had a chance to look into it, but I doubt you can pin it on Arc. He was at a completely different crime scene. I'd say Chivalric, but then what do I know? Apparently, I'm off running my own personal crusade."

"_You really are taking this personally, James."_ Sol sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his finger and thumb against the insides of his eye sockets. _"I've had numerous requests to have you replaced, you know."_

Not unexpected. "Why haven't you?"

"_Because I know you're the best man Atlas has for this job. Because whatever you may think of me, you and I have Atlas' best interests at heart. No one else can do what you do. Not even a fraction as well as you do, James. I'm putting my neck out speaking for you. I hope you understand that."_

"Why don't we both cut the bullshit, Sol. What's the point of all this talk of an investigation if we're going to make it up? Why waste time pretending?"

"_Because, James, it helps people sleep easier at night."_

"Chivalric killed an innocent man."

"_They did."_ Sol admitted. _"You know they did. I know they did. What everyone else knows, however, is whatever we choose to tell them. Ask yourself, James, what do they really want to hear? That a young man died to a registered Atlas company and that we'll be doing nothing to punish them? That we don't care about one random Valean citizen? Because we don't. What is one person in the grand scheme of things? He's not even an important individual." _

Ironwood gripped the chair tight. "He's important to someone. Friends, family, loved ones."

"_And those loved ones will be happier living the lie where Jaune Arc is responsible, and where the greatest Kingdom in Remnant is going to bring him to justice. They will sleep easier knowing – or at least believing – that their loved one's killer was brought to justice."_

"That's who we are then. Liars."

"_It's who we've always been. I don't like it any more than you do, James, but I love my country. I will be the glue that holds Atlas together, both the good parts of it and the dirty. And if that means brushing a few things under the rug? Well, it won't be the first time. Or the last."_

"And the people?"

"_The people will believe what they are told. They're more comfortable that way. They don't want to know how harsh the world really is; they want to live in a happy little bubble where they're safe. Safe singing the praises of Atlas and watching our brave men and women push back the Grimm. Jaune Arc isn't new. He isn't special. He's one more crisis Atlas will rise to meet. The Great War. The Faunus War. Mountain Glenn. The White Fang. Jaune Arc. We've seen them all. In the end, it's the victor who writes history. The people will be happy so long as they're on the winner's side."_

General Ironwood shook his head and slumped back, eyes closing and mouth suddenly dryer than the Vacuo desert. "This isn't the Atlas I signed up to defend."

"_It is, General. You just never realised it. I'll leave you for now. Rest. Recover. But remember one thing. The only reason you haven't been replaced is because I have done my best to keep you where you are. I truly do believe you're the best man for the job. But…" _He sighed unhappily. _"You're not irreplaceable. This is your last chance, James. No more. Kill Jaune Arc or I will personally find someone who can, and more, I'll have Saphron Cotta-Arc and Sable Arc taken off your hands."_

The hologram winked off. General Ironwood breathed out through nis nose, nostrils flaring as he peeled his fingers away from the armrest and pushed a button on his intercom system. Vine's voice came through asking what he needed.

"Prep a shuttle to take me to Beacon. Immediately."

/-/

The golden elevator dinged open.

Ironwood strode out, taking in the scene of Ozpin's office in an instant. Ozpin was behind his desk, sat with a sympathetic frown on his face. Behind him, Glynda was looming tall and imposing, glaring down at Qrow Branwen, who had his hands on Ozpin's desk and was shouting so loud he was spitting into the man's face.

"-don't care who was responsible! I'm going to find her, and when I do, I will personally rip the person responsible a new asshole!"

"Qrow, we don't know who is behind this or why. You mustn't jump to conclusions. Ah. Here is James right now."

"Ironwood?" Qrow pushed back. He looked unusually sober. Painfully so. The man's eyes were narrow, and his hands balled into fists. "You fucking idiot!" he raged. "Ruby was under your protection and you let her be taken! If you don't find her- ah!?"

He cut off as Ironwood placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him bodily aside. Eyes locked on Ozpin's, Ironwood marched toward the desk, planted his hands upon it and then _threw_ it aside, drawing a startled curse from Qrow and a cry of alarm from Glynda. The wood shattered on the floor nearby, exploding into splinters.

Ozpin's glasses fell to the floor as Ironwood picked him up by his collar, dragging him off the chair and walking him back to the wall, standing on and crushing his glasses along the way. He slammed Ozpin back against the huge clockface covering the back wall, lips peeled back, and teeth shown in a wild snarl.

"Why!?"

"James!" Glynda shouted. "Unhand the headmaster at once-"

"Why did you take her!?" Ironwood demanded, shaking the immortal. "You knew what was happening. You knew the risks. You painted a target on your school – on the backs of every single student attending. Why did you take her!?"

"Ozpin has no idea where Ruby Rose is!" Glynda argued. "I _will_ use my Semblance if you don't put him down, James. Ozpin, tell him."

"Amber Arc!" Ironwood roared, silencing her. "Jaune Arc's sister. The one he's busy _ripping_ Vale apart trying to find. You took her. You stole her from him _and_ Chivalric Arms, and worse," he snapped. "You didn't tell me! That's why you wanted the Blake Belladonna in Beacon. That's why you wanted Arc executed. That's why Chivalric took your silver-eyed warrior!"

"Silver- Ruby?" Qrow croaked out desperately. "You… You know who took her…? But Ozpin. No, you couldn't have. He wouldn't. It's Summer's child…"

Ironwood ignored him, shaking Ozpin violently. The man never once dropped his calm smile, taking the abuse without so much as a wince. There was no confusion either, no shock or disbelief that might indicate innocence.

"Why?" Ironwood spat, tightening his hands on his old friend's scarf and lifting him off the floor. "Why risk all this – everyone in Beacon's lives – to steal Arc's sister?"

"Ozpin would never-" Glynda began.

"Because that girl," Ozpin said calmly, "has the potential to change _everything_…"

* * *

**Best intentions, Ozpin. Best intentions.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 5****th**** October**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	34. Chapter 34

**Ignore the troll spamming offensive guest reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 34**

* * *

The elevator was silent as they made their way down. For James, the silence was a chance to contain his fury, stamping down on the hot fire that threatened to come bursting out. For Glynda and Qrow, it was more tense, uncertain and, in Qrow's case, accompanied by clenched teeth and shaking fists.

Only Ozpin remained calm, and even that wasn't quite right. He was shaking himself, humming a quiet tune almost unconsciously and tapping a foot on the bottom of the elevator as it took them deep into the bowels of Beacon. Such irreverence for so serious a situation irritated James even more. He'd been found out, caught, and yet Ozpin looked unconcerned.

Excited, James realised. Ozpin was excited. He was fidgeting like a child.

No sooner had the elevator pinged open was Ozpin strolling out, his cane no longer supporting him but flipped up and caught under his arm. The man had never looked so spry as he practically skipped between the tall green pillars, down a dark path toward a thin spec of light in the distance. Glynda and Qrow exchanged silent and uncomfortable glances, but James moved out. He had come for answers. Nothing less.

He wished he could say he found it in the small and pathetic sight of two girls, one a young child, strapped down to white mattresses set atop steel frames. Their faces were sunken and sallow, eyes shadowed and hair matted. They were each clad in white medical gowns with insultingly simple drips keeping them hydrated. Two girls who, by some stroke of providence, shared the same name and, if his suspicions were correct, equally important powers.

"Ozpin, no," Glynda breathed shallowly. "What have you done…?"

"I have done what I have never been capable of before," Ozpin said, ghosting around the two girls – or more specifically, Amber Arc – with bright eyes and a wide, manic, smile. His fingers trailed over her bedsheets proudly like he was stroking a vintage sports car. "I've finally come close to defeating Salem once and for all. I'm close to striking the final blow."

"You requested experimental medical equipment from me," Ironwood spat with a look toward the fall maiden. "Including the aura transfer machinery you had us working on. Why are they tied down to beds with not even a single piece of equipment to keep them alive?"

"Because they won't work!" Rather than sound upset, Ozpin laughed delightedly, looking up to them like he was excitedly sharing a joke and waiting for them to reach the punchline. "We all know what Mr Arc's Semblance does, his Null, but Chivalric Arms made a grand mistake with him. Not just giving him the motivation and the means to hunt them down, but also in missing the absolute gem in their midst." His hand touched Amber Arc's shoulder, and James found himself tensing. "Jaune Arc may have been the first to show the potential of the Arc's Semblance, but he's a precursor, an early bloomer. His Semblance is not nearly as developed as this young woman's is."

Ozpin set his cane down on Amber's bed and reached into his pocket, drawing out a thin blade no longer than his finger and more for cutting rope or cloth than people. He pushed it up against his thumb and dug it in, letting them see the blood bubble up past the steel.

"See? No aura. None of us have any. No Semblances, either, and she isn't even awake or consciously using her power. The range is larger as well, reaching a whole sixty metres to the elevator doors – and there was no discernible moment where you could sense it happening."

"You didn't have to cut yourself," Qrow said. "We could have checked our scroll-? It's not working." He shook the device. "What? It's not just out of battery; it's completely dead!"

"Yes!" Ozpin bounced on the spot, smiling so fiercely that every tooth could be counted. "That's another part of what makes her Semblance so much more powerful. It's not just aura and Semblance, Qrow. It's dust as well, including everything that might run on it. That's why I can't have any machinery or medical equipment here; it doesn't work. It is also what brought down the Bullhead carrying her and caused it to crash into the Emerald Forest."

A Null Semblance that impacted not only aura but machinery as well. Ironwood reeled at the implications. It wasn't _all machinery_, but since everything in Remnant ran on dust nowadays, it might as well be. If Amber Arc walked through a city centre, she would cause untold havoc. If she was dropped off at a public hospital, every piece of equipment there would flatline and hundreds might die as a result.

_The girl is a living bomb. An anti-aura, anti-technology IED._

"It gets better!" Ozpin gushed, throwing aside all pretences of innocence now, all pretences of the calm and composed man he normally was. "When I found her in the Emerald Forest, I found her surrounded by piles of black dust and with no Grimm in sight. That was despite the fact they'd been drawn to the impact of the crash and the dying cries of the people within. Do you know why?" He didn't give them time to answer, too excited to say it. "Her Semblance even nullifies Grimm!" His voice dropped to a hiss. "It nullifies _their power_. The power of the Gods!"

Ironwood felt the imaginary blow deep in his stomach. The sudden intake of air and the blast of ice-cold water deep in his soul. More than that, he felt the temptation. The desire that so surely had taken Ozpin. Amber Arc was potentially the most powerful Semblance he'd ever heard of. If Atlas had that, no, if _he_ had that…

No! He would _not_ become as Chivalric.

"You can't be serious!" Qrow shouted. "How can a human have power to rival a God!?"

"Oh, she doesn't," Ozpin said quickly. "Not really. It's more a specific power to obfuscate or cancel out. I don't know the specifics just yet." He laughed again, loud and richly. "Perhaps it's a stronger facet of the God of Darkness' power or some bizarre mix of light and dark that ends up in the middle. No one understands how Semblances work, least of all me, but what I do know is that Amber no longer displays any signs of being the Fall Maiden when she is close to her younger counterpart. I know that the tug on Amber's soul has been eased. I know that _I_ cannot use my magic, and I dare say that you would not be able to turn into a bird, Qrow. By all means, try it. That is magic and not Semblance, so you would be able to transform in front of Jaune Arc. Try it with his sister."

All eyes were on the man and he nodded after a moment's thought, stepping up and looking down on the sad little girl. James watched his expression closely, more interested in Qrow's thoughts than whether or not this worked. If Ozpin said it did, he had no reason to doubt.

Qrow's eyes wouldn't leave the young girl's face. Though she was blonde unlike his own youngest niece, she was still a small and fragile child and Qrow Branwen didn't know what to do. His lips opened to speak but a cough from Ozpin brought him back. He closed his eyes, concentrated and… did nothing. Nothing happened.

"I-I can't do it," he whispered almost miserably. "I can't transform."

It was true, then. Ironwood closed his eyes and sighed.

"An incredible Semblance," Ozpin said. "So much more than Jaune Arc's. You ask why I took her, James? I ask you how I could not. If this girl can cancel out a power granted by the Gods, then she might also be capable of ending Salem once and for all. If not killing her then removing her immortality and allowing someone else to strike the final blow."

"And to do that you'll throw away a young man's life," James said. "You'll steal his sister, frame and kill him, then force said sister to act as your slave and give her life against an impossible enemy. You'd turn a fourteen-year-old girl into a weapon."

Glynda struggled with her own words and Qrow was still staring down at Amber Arc.

"I would, old friend. Of all the mistakes I've made in my long life I'm proud to say using a child as a weapon has not been one of them. I cannot in good conscience allow my ego to prevent me using her, however. I won't be proud of it," Ozpin admitted. "I will not consider myself a good person for doing so, nor will I expect Nicholas Arc, his wife or his family to forgive me in the afterlife. But if by using one person, I can save so many others, I shall. I have to. There is no choice."

"There's always a choice."

"Yes, of course, semantics. There's a choice between defeating Salem and ridding the world of the threat of Grimm against helping one girl have a good life and being able to walk away on my high horse, all the while people suffer and die and Salem plots her eventual rise to power and the destruction of the human race. Don't give me your moral exercises, James. I've lived three thousand years and I know more about right and wrong than you ever will! This is wrong!" he spat. "Of course it's wrong, but it's the kind of wrong I'll dip into if it means finishing this battle once and for all."

"The kind of wrong where you'll work with Chivalric Arms?"

"Ruby!" Qrow cried, looking up suddenly.

"Miss Rose, yes. Chivalric Arms have somehow found out I have their missing test subject and want her back. They have taken Ruby Rose hoping to use her as a hostage in some exchange."

An exchange that would not take place. Qrow realised it, stepping back and shaking badly. "You… You're going to leave Ruby to die, aren't you?"

"She won't die." James said gruffly. "Though she may wish she could. Experimentation. Torture. Forced insemination. Needles, tests and constant loneliness until she begs for the cold embrace of death."

Qrow let out a strangled sound. "Ozpin! Help her!"

"I shall, Qrow. I shall." Ozpin said it with a scowl sent James' way. "Just because Chivalric Arms seem to think they have the upper hand doesn't mean they do. We will reclaim Miss Rose if we are able-"

"If!?" Qrow shouted. "They want her! Say you'll do the trade. We can fake it or something, start it and then attack them to get Ruby back!"

Ozpin didn't say a word.

Ironwood chuckled. "He won't do that, Branwen. Don't you see? Your niece is old hat now. Silver eyes? Vague and nebulous powers of ancient warriors? That can't compare with Null, let alone Null on steroids. He won't risk his new weapon to save an older model."

"I will do all I can to rescue Miss Rose."

"Except place your newest _asset_ in danger."

"…"

It was the lack of an answer that broke Qrow. He twisted to the side and cried out in abject fury, hand reaching for his weapon. Glynda took her own, ready to intervene, but Qrow gave it up and turned away.

"I'm done."

Ozpin frowned. "Qrow-"

"I'm done!" the huntsman repeated. "I didn't sign up for this. I joined because I saw something _better_ than my sister's tribe in Beacon. This is worse and I won't be a fucking part of it. Team STRQ didn't fight for this. Summer didn't _die_ for this!" Stomping away, he shouted back, "I'm going to go save my niece."

"Don't do anything reckless, Qrow," Ozpin called after him. He received a middle finger in return before Qrow entered the elevator and slammed his hands on the keys, closing the door. Ozpin breathed out heavily. "I suspected he wouldn't take this well. Not that I can blame him. I'm no prouder of this than you, James, but I hope you can see the necessity."

"What I see, Ozpin, is convenience. Not necessity."

"They're one and the same with Salem as she is." Ozpin placed his hands upon Amber Arc's bed and looked over her body at them both. "That is all I can say. This girl holds the potential to end Salem once and for all, and I _will_ use her for that purpose. If she wishes to kill me afterwards, I shall accept my death with open arms. Until then, I will harden my heart and do what I must."

"Jaune Arc will come for her. He will come for Beacon."

Ozpin didn't seem surprised by the news. He nodded his head. "Yes. And you will stop him." Ironwood cracked his neck dangerously. "No, that's not a threat on my part. You will stop him because whether or not you agree with my actions, you know his are no better. Civilisation only persists so long as it is stable. Stability does not always equate fairness. Atlas has placed you in charge of the security around Beacon, Vale and the Amity Colosseum. If Jaune Arc makes his move as we all expect he will, and succeeds in harming my school, then it will lead to the kind of international crisis Salem can take advantage of. Neither of us want that. One man's life is a small price to pay for peace."

General James Ironwood turned and marched back to the elevator, a constant ringing in his ears. He pushed his finger into the button so hard it almost cracked, waited impatiently for it to return and then stepped in. Glynda slid in with him, face pale and lips moving without speech for a few long minutes.

"I don't like this any more than you do," she eventually said. "I can't believe Ozpin would do this, let alone put Beacon and its students in danger. I feel for the boy, I do, but he's become so dangerous, and I don't want to see what happened to Team RWBY happen to other people."

Ironwood continued to stare ahead. Glynda waited for him to comment but continued when it was clear he would not. "To think there would be a Semblance so powerful it could swing the battle against Salem. I don't know what to think about that. On the one hand it's horrible to use a girl so young as a weapon, but on the other we train children from the age of ten to fight. If that could all be ended, then isn't it worth any sacrifice?"

"I'm not saying I agree or like it," she went on. "But Ozpin hasn't led us wrong so far. I can understand Qrow's anger, especially with his niece in danger, but I trust Ozpin to put all his resources into finding and saving her. And really, is it any different from what you do in Atlas? You use soldiers to fight the enemy. Salem is the enemy of all Remnant."

The elevator dinged and the door swished open. Ironwood did not immediately step out.

"The difference," he said softly, making Glynda jump, "Is that I do not force anyone to fight. I do not steal them away from their families, orchestrate the death of their siblings and then try to bend them to my will. I do not see people as weapons, Glynda."

Glynda Goodwitch stood silent, eyes downcast and clipboard clutched to her chest.

General James Ironwood stormed out.

/-/

Blake crept into Team RWBY's dorm and closed the door softly behind her. Immediately, she was the focus of two pars of eyes, one pale blue and the other burning angry red. It wasn't just the irises, either. Yang's eyes were bloodshot and ringed from crying, her face so much a mess that you almost couldn't recognise her.

Weiss wasn't much better. There weren't any tears, but half her face was blistered and burned, the skin still red and prone to peeling despite all the expensive treatments and medicine available to her. Right now, Weiss didn't care. The moment Blake closed the door she was up and moving forward, lips working.

"Well? What is being done?"

Never before had she so wished for a hole to swallow her up. "Nothing…"

"Nothi-rk!" Yang's voice cracked, her cry rising far too much far too soon. It ended in a gurgled choke and she clutched her neck, bending forward while Weiss slapped her back and glared at Blake demanding answers.

"I spoke to General Ironwood," she explained, coming over to collapse on the bed. "He says he's being held back from taking part in any investigation pertaining Ruby. When I said it was Chivalric Arms, he said he's not allowed to investigate again."

"H-How can he ignore this-?" Yang croaked out. "Ruby was kidnapped on his ship!"

"I… I don't think he's ignoring it. At least not willingly. He didn't have to tell me anything. He didn't have to accept my request for a meeting at all. In fact, he probably wouldn't have for anyone else. The fact he let me in and even told me this much… I think he wanted to tell me. He wanted to let us know."

"He's being held back," Weiss rasped. Her voice would be off for a few days they'd been told, all part of her burned lungs. It sounded raw and scratchy now, and she'd taken to saying few words because of how much it hurt.

"That's what I got from it," Blake agreed. "I know… I know from when I was in the White Fang that Atlas was prepared to sweep things under the rug, especially where Chivalric Arms are concerned. This is nothing new but… I get the feeling General Ironwood _wants_ to help us. He just can't. There's something – or someone – stopping him."

"Yeah," Yang snapped, "His fear of losing his job!"

"It must be more than that. We can't know everything he does. I… I asked him if Ozpin would be searching for Ruby and all he could say was that Ozpin said he'd try but…" Blake's head fell into her hands. "The way he said it, I don't think he has any faith."

Yang and Weiss punched their bed and covered their face with their hands respectively.

"He did tell me your Uncle is looking for her," she told Yang.

"Course he is," Yang said, almost crying. "U-Uncle Qrow wouldn't give up on us ever."

"We have to help," Weiss rasped.

She wanted to, of course she did, but what could they do? Chivalric Arms had been unstoppable when she'd been a part of the White Fang, and she couldn't say she was in a better situation now. They were students, minors, and accountable for anything they did. This wasn't something where they could find evidence, present it and have everyone come crashing down on Chivalric to arrest the bad guys and save Ruby.

If they tried, Chivalric would either kill them, frame them or crucify if them in the public eye. It wouldn't take much to dig up her connections to her parents and portray her as having anti-Atlas sympathies. Yang would be shown as a violent and bitter teenager quick to get angry and make mistakes. Weiss would either be dragged through the wringer for her connections to the SDC or maybe just pressured by her father, recalled to treat her injuries and not seen again until this was all over. Chivalric Arms was more than just a company; it was a state-sponsored and state-protected entity. Ruby had as good as been kidnapped by Atlas itself, the strongest Kingdom on Remnant.

"What can we do?" Yang asked.

"Nothing. We can't do anything."

"Bullshit! We can fight!"

"How!?" Blake snapped, her own eyes burning with angry tears. "I've tried fighting them, Yang. Me, Jaune, Adam and the whole White Fang tried, and all we got was the entire kingdom of Atlas hunting us across Mistral. They sent huntsmen after us. They turned _everyone_ against us. Do you think it'll be any different here? We can't fight them. We can't even inconvenience them."

"He can…"

The words, so quiet from Weiss, chilled Blake's soul. "No…"

"They come pouring out whenever he appears," Weiss continued, every word sounding like it physically hurt, but the girl forcing them out all the same. All for the chance at saving Ruby. "They want him. They will -ack." Weiss winced. "They will c-come out for him. He'll fight them."

/-/

When Jaune received the news from Roman, he almost didn't believe it. The message came from Junior, Roman's pet information broker and the same one who had come good on helping him find Chivalric before, and the promise that there would be more information at hand here tempted him even if he already knew where Amber was being held.

That wasn't the only thing that drew him to Junior's club, though. Not at all.

It was dark inside. Not entirely black, but gloomy with only a few of the strobe lights on and suited men going around cleaning tables and the floor with brooms, collecting broken glass, sweeping up spilled alcohol and hauling binbags of trash out the public restrooms. Junior stood behind his bar taking stock of his alcohol with a clipboard and pen, shouting out instructions to another man on a laptop nearby, likely ordering more.

The twins were sitting nearby nursing drinks and spotted him first. Before, they'd shown interest in him – not romantic, but curiosity, like they weren't sure what to think about him. Now, he caught the momentary flash of fear and the urgent tugging on Junior's arm. They'd seen the news report, then. Watched him storm his way into a hotel, kill people and then walk out through Atlas' blockade.

"H-Hey there." Junior said, setting his board down. "Did Roman give you the rub? Guess he must have. I've set aside a room for you." He pointed. "It's private and the bugs are off. I promise you that." Jaune believed the man. It wouldn't be wise of him to lie. He nodded and started to move toward it. "One thing!" Junior called. "Uh. I thought you should know that… well, they didn't come alone. Just wanted to give you fair warning."

"I should have expected it. Thank you for letting me know."

"Yeah." Junior just looked relieved he wasn't in any trouble. "No problem. None at all. Friend of Roman's is a friend of mine. Just… maybe keep in mind this is my place? It's hard to hide bodies. Not that I can't," he added quickly, hands up as if to ward off a blow. "You know what, I'll let you decide. We're at your beck and call. Just holler if you need us to do… well… anything."

Jaune didn't really _feel_ the smile that crept over his face. It was just something he did because it felt like the best way to disarm them. The lack of any real warmth must have shown, however, because Junior paled and went back to his drinks, stiff as a board. The Malachites also looked away, and no one would meet his eyes as he walked toward the private room. His hand slid down to his side, flicking the safety on Mors off and on again. He pushed the door open and stepped into the small room. His eyes made to take in the and judge the space, but they got trapped halfway. He'd known who he would be meeting, but his lips still peeled back.

"Blake…"

The dark-haired faunus sat at the table flanked by two other familiar girls flinched. "J-Jaune. It's good to see you- wait, wait, wait!" she cried, holding her hands up when Mors leapt up, barrel aimed right at her. "We're not here to fight! Please!"

The trigger creaked under his finger. His teeth clenched together, and his eyes burned. _Pull it,_ his brain whispered. _Do it!_ For Juniper. For Adam. For his own satisfaction. _Pull the trigger and blow her fucking brains out!_

He didn't, but neither did he bring the gun down. His Semblance flooded the room, eyes glowing and aura dropping. The other two girls were tense but for the most part unarmed. The blonde's hand was wrapped in bandages where he'd cut it in two, and the one with the white hair was badly burned and looked to stiff to be a proper combatant.

"You _said_ you would be coming alone," Jaune hissed.

"They wouldn't let me! I meant it, Jaune, I swear, but they're my teammates and they wouldn't-"

"You lied, then. Not that I'm surprised. It's all you ever do, Blake. Lie and run away. I've half a mind to kill you right now." He licked his lips. "More than half a mind. Give me one good reason not to make my day ten times better."

"Chivalric Arms has kidnapped our team leader. We need your help."

The gun dropped. Jaune stared at Blake, unsure if he'd heard correctly. His lips wobbled and his chest stuttered as he missed a breath. Then, with a gurgle, he bent double and burst out laughing. "Ha ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!" he roared, stumbling back into the door and throwing his head back. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

The blonde was up on her feet. "It's not funny, you sick fuck-"

Mors cracked once. The bullet whizzed by her arm and impacted the leather seating, burying itself inside and hitting metal deeper down with a loud clang. The blonde froze and Blake dragged her back down into her seat with an arm over her chest.

Jaune continued to laugh even with the gun aimed at Yang, tears running down his cheeks. It was so hard to stop his arm wavering, even when he knew he shouldn't. Blake… this… now asking him? His thoughts bubbled off and he laughed again, genuinely having to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Oh man. Oh… ha ha." He snorted loudly, trying to calm himself down. "That – snrk – oh, that's amazing. No, not you," he said waving the gun at Yang and watching her tense up. "Blake! Oh this is incredible. Blake asking me for help. Weren't you – ha ha – weren't you the person who went out her way to criticise me for this? You kept going on about how I was doing things wrong, giving in to dark thoughts, hurting innocent people in pursuit of saving my family. And now!" he crowed. "Now, the moment your friend is taken by those same people, it's suddenly `we need your help, Jaune`. Help from the same person whose methods you considered so sickening you betrayed him and abandoned him in the middle of Vale! Is that what I'm hearing, Blake? Is that what's happening here?"

"It… It's not the same…"

"It's the exact same thing!" Jaune roared, amusement gone, barrel locked on her face, right between her wide eyes. "You're content to take the high ground around me, around Adam and the White Fang, when in the end you're no better! Chivalric Arms _is_ Atlas, Blake. If you want to go against Chivalric with your team then congratulations, you're becoming terrorists. That's how it works, but then, you already know that."

"I'm prepared to become a terrorist if it means getting my sister back," the blonde said.

"Good for you," Jaune fired back. "And I feel for you, I do, I've been there, but the problem is that you _fucking killed my mother_ and I'm not feeling like I have much of a reason to care. In fact, part of me thinks this is just what you deserve." Selfish or not, he felt it. There was no denying that. "See how walking a few miles in my shoes feels!"

"We're offering to help you against Chivalric!" Blake cried.

"I don't _need_ your help! I know where my sister is!"

"Then let us come with you when you break-"

"My sister is in Beacon." He watched their faces go blank. "My sister, Amber Arc, is in Beacon, locked away by your headmaster. And Chivalric knows. Why do you think they went after your sister? That wasn't to get to me, Blake. They know I don't give a shit about a girl I put two bullets in. But who do you think _would_ care?" He didn't wait for the answer. "That's right. Beacon. Your sister is a bargaining chip for mine, so I hope you won't feel _too_ surprised when I tell you I'm not going to bother trying to save her. Good luck with your own efforts is what I'd say." Mors came back up. "If I wasn't going to kill you here and now."

"Jaune, please!"

"Please what, Blake? Please don't take vengeance for my mother? Please don't kill you for betraying me? Please think twice and surrender because I can be redeemed by the same man who has kidnapped my sister and is trying to push for my death?" He smiled sarcastically. "No. I think we're done here. You've got nothing to offer yet you call a meeting, and what's more, you don't come alone as you promised. You're a liar and a snake; that's all you've ever been. And here and now, you've got nothing I want. Nothing except your head."

"Jaune!"

"Goodbye-"

"Matthew Fields." It was the white-haired one that croaked it out, face pinched but eyes locked on his. For once, Jaune looked away from Blake. "We can give you Matthew Fields."

"What…?"

"Matthew Fields," she rasped. "CEO of Chivalric Arms. The one who founded the company. The one who decides everything. Decided everything. Including killing your father, kidnapping your family and experimenting on you all. He's in Vale. He has our team leader. He's away from the safety of Atlas and all the armies that would protect him." Weiss Schnee met him head on, eyes cold as ice behind scarred and puckered skin. "You'll never get a chance like this again. A chance to find and kill the one responsible for all of this."

Mors clacked as he pressed it down into the table. Jaune's eyes flashed blue, Semblance receding as he sat down. Blake gasped and shivered in her seat, slumping down with her eyes fluttering shut. There was no mistaking how afraid she was, but Jaune didn't have eyes for her. His remained locked on the girl opposite him, and the promise she offered.

"Talk…"

* * *

**Still feeling a little rough today but writing honestly helps distract me from that, so here we go**

**Did take a lot longer to write, though.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 12****th**** October**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	35. Chapter 35

**Notice: No Updates 19th October - 25th October**

Due to irl work problems and some personal issues (but mostly the irl work) there won't be any updates this week, dates aforementioned. I will be back on the 26th and things will be back to normal.

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 35**

* * *

It ought to have been nostalgic, working with Blake again, but the reality was that he couldn't stop glaring holes in the back of her head and wishing he could make them real. _Calm down,_ he told himself. _We've got the best shot we'll ever get at the bastard responsible for all of this. Don't throw it away for Blake of all people._

His eyes were torn away, down to his handgun as he meticulously checked his dust ammunition and slid another explosive round into the external chamber. Vengeance for his whole family had to come first. After, after Fields lay dead, he could consider taking vengeance for his mother.

"Matthew Fields is a public entity," Weiss Schnee rasped. "That means that even if what he does is secretive, he can't be. His flight landed yesterday evening and Chivalric Arms have taken over a moderately sized rental lot on the outskirts of the city, only just inside the walls. They've basically turned the whole thing into a subsidiary of Chivalric Arms."

"Into a fortress, you mean," Yang said. "They have to know they're in danger."

"I'd assume so. Leaving aside us and Beacon, they know… they know Null would be gunning for them." It sounded like she'd hesitated on his name, wondering if she could safely call him _Jaune_ or if she should. He nodded, happier with this compromise than the slightest suggestion they were friends. "Even a public company has security and CA can argue their security needs to be better equipped. We should expect a small army."

"You should also expect them to kill you if they catch you." Jaune said, watching them freeze and flinch. He rolled his eyes and continued. "This is Chivalric Arms. The moment you attack them, you're considered terrorists. _Blake_ knows that's the case." He snapped her name out. "They won't politely stop you and escort you out. They'll kill you. Unless they think your Semblance useful enough to replicate, in which case you'll only wish you were dead."

"We get it!" Yang growled. "This is serious."

"It _is_ serious, and that's why I'm wasting time right now making sure you know it. Are you prepared to kill to get your sister back? Because that's what's going to be needed." He kept one eye on Yang, but it was Blake he watched. "Can you kill people to save your sister?"

The girl's teeth ground together as she snarled out a quick, "Yes."

He believed her. It wasn't that he thought she was like him, but her anger felt overpowering. Mind numbing. If he'd gone from a scared boy to killing to save his family, what was to say she couldn't? He nodded quickly to her, but soon turned his gaze on Blake. "Good. The question is, will Blake let you do what needs to be done. After all, she spent the better part of all our time together trying to tell me I was wrong."

Weiss and Yang turned to stare at Blake, fixing her to the chair. The ex-terrorist glared back at him for all the effect it had. "This is different," she said. "Fields is the one behind all this. If he needs to be killed to save Ruby, I won't say no."

Hypocrite. What a fucking hypocrite. He wanted to flip the table, grab her by the throat and demand to know what made _her_ team leader more valuable than his entire family. Why it was okay to kill to save Ruby Rose, but the worst thing imaginable for anyone with the Arc name.

He took a deep breath and let it go, closing his eyes. "Good," he snapped. "Then we're agreed. I don't want any stupid arguments halfway through about right or wrong. I _will_ kill you, Blake, if you try and stop me getting to him."

"She won't stop you," Yang answered for her partner. "I won't let her."

How amazing to think that any of them would become like him the moment someone they cared about was in danger. Amazing, but not surprising. They hadn't been so different once. He'd even hoped to attend Beacon. He wondered if, in another life, they might even have been friends. Probably not. He'd never been good around women, even before he'd permanently scarred and traumatised them.

"There's also a chance he won't be there," he told them. "The base might be a ruse. Still, it's our only chance of locating him and your missing member so we don't have a choice." Jaune rose, standing and moving away from the table. "We'll meet at the intersection tonight at eleven. Bring whatever you need but don't tell anyone. No one can be trusted."

"I think we figured that one out already," Yang muttered.

Good for her. The lesson had taken him much longer to learn.

/-/

The dull ache that ran throughout her entire body was accompanied by a thick and musty sensation in her mouth. Ruby smacked her dry lips even before opening her eyes, and she wished she hadn't when the bright and invasive light shone down into them. What were Yang and the others doing? Instinctively, she tried to move her arm up to cover her eyes, forgetting for a moment her own paralysis.

Two things were wrong she noted, one with excitement and the other horror.

First of all, the muscles in her arms moved. They tensed, strained and her fingers curled into a fist, arm moving upward as she commanded it to. That rush of excitement and hope was quashed by the fact something metallic clinked around her wrist, keeping her from moving too much.

"Subject-S appears to have awoken," a voice she didn't recognise commented.

"Behind expectation," another said sharply. "Her system should have been flushed of the drugs administered one hour ago. We were assured she received no damage during transit."

"I'll have the courier investigated, doctor."

"Later. I need you here for now. Hold her arm down."

Two cold hands clamped down onto her left arm, one over her elbow and the other gripping her shoulder. Ruby whined and tried to blink past the bright spots in her eyes to see what was going on. Something even colder than the hands was laid against her bicep before she felt a sudden and painful prick and the slow incision of a needle.

"Owww!" she whimpered. "It hurts."

"Sensory systems appear to be undamaged."

"I have ears, assistant."

The needle stopped pushing in, but Ruby felt the draw of blood being flushed back and shivered. She wasn't _bad_ with needles, but blood tests always felt so much worse than the occasional vaccine or booster jab. More afraid of what might go wrong than the pain, she kept her arm still. The doctor could have just asked her to.

"Done." The needle yanked out with far more force than was normal, making her yelp. "Take this and process it yourself. Personally. I refuse to believe the results of the last test. Those eyes _aren't_ normal and there _must_ be something in her blood to reflect that."

"I'll see to it now, doctor."

It sounded like they were done, and Ruby was just beginning to make out murky shapes. "E-Excuse me," she called. "C-Can you turn the lights down a little? I can't see…"

Equipment clinked and tinkled on a table or desk nearby. She heard footsteps moving around, and one leaving the room entirely, a heavy door closing behind them. There was still someone in the room, though. The doctor who had taken her blood.

"Excuse me!" she tried again. "I… I can feel my arms and legs. Can you tell my family?"

A bag zipped open. The doctor hummed, scribbled something loudly onto a piece of paper or a notebook and stuffed it away. The zipper sounded again. Footsteps took him away from her.

"Hello? Doctor-?" she called. "Excuse me!"

The doctor continued to ignore her. He hadn't even spoken to her once, let alone made a move to untie her hands. Ruby tried her feet as well, and while she could pull them up, there was something around her ankles keeping her trapped to the bed. Her panic started to rise, heart thudding away in her chest.

The door opened again, and footsteps came in. The doctor sighed angrily. "What is it now-? Mr Fields!" he exclaimed, alarmed. "I-I apologise for my rudeness. Please forgive me, I thought you were my assistant returning again-"

"All forgiven, doctor, don't worry." The new voice was friendly. Very friendly. It was a voice used to laughing and smiling, and she could imagine wrinkles around his lips. Little dimples. "I'm not so arrogant as to demand everyone bow and scrape. How are you finding your new laboratory? Is it up to standard?"

"Nothing compared to Atlas, sir, but it shall do."

"I hope so. We had to put it together in a pinch."

"I appreciate it, sir. Really. If I may ask… you don't normally come down to see a Subject personally." A Subject? Like a medical subject? "I hope I've not done anything to warrant the visit, sir."

"No. No. Perish the thought. In truth, I'm merely bored." The man laughed. "There's always something to do back home, things to look over or sign off on, but I only arrived yesterday, and my workload has yet to catch up with me. I thought I'd spend my time checking up on our latest investment. That's all."

Ruby licked her lips and called out again, "Excuse me!"

"Oh?" the new voice said. "She's awake?"

"For the past three and a half minutes," the doctor remarked. Well that was rude. If he'd known she was up, why didn't he say anything? Ruby pulled on her arms and scrunched her eyes shut against the light.

"Please," she tried. "Can you turn the lights down? They hurt."

"Of course. Of course." More footsteps to her left before the punishingly white light finally started to darken, turning down to a ruddy orange glow. It hadn't just been her eyes having difficulty, she realised as the spots began to disappear. The entire roof was a spotlight of circular globes, each of which had been shining with the whitest of medical light, punching down into her eyes and blinding her. "How is that?" the voice asked. "Better?"

"Y-Yes. T-Thank you…"

"Ah. So polite. How refreshing." A shadowy figure came up to the left side of her. The details were slowly beginning to filter in, and she could make out black hair with a little grey like Uncle Qrow's but slicked back into a more professional style. The face was pale but smiling as she'd expected. His bright blue eyes looked down on her. "Silver," he said softly. "I've never before seen the like. How very interesting."

A man in a white lab coat hovered by a door nearby. He coughed into his hand and asked, "Would you like me to sedate her, sir? I was going to have her moved back to holding."

"That's fine, doctor. I shall handle it. You go see to your work."

"As you say, sir. Good evening." The door opened and closed, and she was soon alone with the strange new man. Even if he was smiling, she didn't recognise him and the fact he looked so excitedly down at her left her stomach flipping and flopping.

"W-Who are you…?" she stammered.

"How rude of me to not introduce myself. I am Matthew Fields, CEO of Chivalric Arms. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rose. I've heard a lot about you."

"You… have…?"

"Oh yes. I make it a habit to explore the past of each of our subjects. Ruby Rose, born of Summer Rose and Taiyang Xiao-Long in Vale's Westfront Hospital. Sister to Yang Xiao-Long, student of Signal and later Beacon, unlocking a speed or reactions-based Semblance. Accepted into Beacon two years early and placed as leader of Team RWBY. That's quite the storied history for one so young."

He knew a lot. More than she felt comfortable him knowing. "Where am I?"

"That's really not important," he said. "Would you like a drink of water? I'm sure the good doctor forgot to give you one. I'll ask you forgive them, Ruby. They're awfully focused on their research and sometimes forget the niceties they should show. Here. Drink."

The glass was held to her lips and Ruby could do nothing but swallow. It was crystal clear and cold, and she realised how badly she needed it the moment it touched her tongue. Leaning her head up, she greedily drank until it was all gone, then gasped happily.

She froze when a finger dabbed over her lips softly. Mr Fields cleaned her mouth with his hand, smiling much like her father might have when she was a child. It felt wrong. It all felt wrong.

"Tell me, Ruby, you wanted to become a huntress, didn't you? Why is that?"

"I… I wanted to help people. To save them."

His blue eyes lit up with excitement. "From the Grimm?" When she nodded, he continued. "Wonderful. I admire that, Ruby, I really do. It's a story that resonates inside me. You see, I, too, wanted to save my people from the Grimm. That's why I joined the military in Atlas. I gave a decade and a half of my life to it, fighting Grimm wherever I could. Criminals, too. I'm sure you know that the enemies of mankind do not always come in Grimm form. I saw terrible things in those times, Ruby, as I'm sure you have as well. The Grimm really are merciless, and the greatest threat to our survival as a species."

Nervously, she nodded. Nothing he'd said was wrong but the way he kept looking at her was weird. He was staring. It wasn't like when someone was just looking in your direction or making eye contact. He was _staring_ at her eyes.

"I fought the good fight," he went on. "Until such a time as I could realistically fight no longer. I was growing old, my squad mates had retired or died around me, and do you know what bothered me. Do you know what kept me up at night? It was the fact that for all my effort, for all we'd done, we were no closer to dealing with the Grimm threat. Oh, we had protected people," he said. "I don't begrudge that. We did good work to save people. It was all short term, though. We hadn't struck against the Grimm or properly granted our people a way to deal with them forever. That's the problem," Fields said. "That's the problem with Huntsman Academies, the armies and humanity itself. We are fighting a losing battle."

"No…"

"Yes! Yes, it's true even if you don't want to admit it. Don't get me wrong, I believe in and even fund the academies. They are necessary and it's hardly your fault that nothing is done. Nor was it ours when I served in the military. Simply put, humanity lacks – or lacked – the tools with which to offensively combat the Grimm. That is when I knew what I must do, Ruby. I had to provide humanity those tools, and thus, I created Chivalric Arms."

"T-The weapons manufacturer?"

"More than just weapons, my dear," he chuckled, stroking her forehead. "We were just that at first, weapons and armour, but it wasn't enough. I expanded us into robotics – why let people die when machines can do it for us? That aided us for a while, aided Atlas and the other Kingdoms, but even that wasn't enough. What was next? What could be next? For the longest time, the question kept me awake at night. We needed better weapons. Humanity needed better weapons! Civilians, military and huntsmen alike. And then," he said, pacing beside her bed and snapping his fingers. "Then it struck me. Do you know what _your_ greatest weapon is, Ruby?"

The question was a common one in Signal. "My mind?"

Matthew Fields laughed. "Yes, yes, of course, your heart and mind. I walked into that one, didn't I? Sadly, I cannot manufacture intelligence for people. I meant your greatest intrinsic weapon." He gripped the edge of her bed and leaned over her. "A huntsman's greatest weapon, their ace in the hole…"

"Our Semblances…?"

"Yes. Yes, that's it. It sounds crazy but imagine it for a moment. Imagine for a brief second, Ruby, if we could _share_ and _combine_ Semblances. If we could select them at a young age, choose what to have. Imagine a world where every person could open a catalogue and pick their preferred Semblance. There would be checks and balances, of course," he said, waving his hand. "The most dangerous ones would be kept away from the public, but even then, imagine how much safer the average citizen would be if they could run as fast as you for instance, or turn invisible or push the Grimm back with gusts of wind. Imagine it. They could protect themselves until the Huntsmen arrive. We could have military teams each with synergistic Semblances allowing them to move and fight in perfect concert. Wouldn't that be incredible? Wouldn't that improve humanity's chances so much?"

It would. Even if she was afraid of the man above her, she couldn't deny it would change everything. If it could happen. It couldn't, though. Semblances were tied into aura, into the soul, and everyone unlocked one that was personal to them.

"You can't pick," she said quietly. "It's not a choice."

"Not now, no, but it could be. This… genetic lottery," he sneered at the term, "holds us back as a species. You have Huntsmen with poor Semblances and it's just as likely that some nowhere farmer might have the greatest Semblance on Remnant, but he'll never know because he doesn't unlock it. It's ridiculous. That's been our first step. Tools with which to detect Semblances, to understand them in advance. That requires us to identify what in the human body causes a Semblance to manifest."

"The soul…"

"Romantic, but naïve," he said. "Unscientific, too. Animals have souls yet no Semblances, and do we now suggest that people who never unlock their Semblances lack a soul? No, it's a quaint mix of religion and superstition that attaches the term `soul` to a Semblance. The building blocks of mankind exist within the physical body. So, too, does the Semblance. I should know," he said proudly. "We've found it!"

He laughed, pushing off her bed and walking around to her other side. "We have found the genetic link that binds a Semblance to the host." he boasted. "We are close, so close, to a world which does away with this random element. To a world where anyone, regardless of genetic fortune or luck of the draw, can rise up and defend humanity. A world where good people can be granted useful Semblances, and where those who would abuse theirs or break the law can be stripped of their own. A world where humanity and humanity alone can determine its fate."

"You're insane!"

"Insane? No, no, no. Insanity is doing something again and again and expecting a different result. Insanity is believing in something that cannot be done. This is not insanity, but reality. We are _so close_, Ruby. Close enough that I already have a backlog of wealthy clients posting requests for tailor-made Semblances. Oh, how ridiculous some of them are." He paused to laugh. "Youth, healing, anti-ageing, but there are some who want them for more military operations; enhanced toughness, regeneration, even speed like your own will be highly prized. Now, it's just a factor of hunting down the natural instances of these Semblances so we can make a proper record of them, a gene bank from which we can grow and cultivate our own. Ten years from now, we might see hundreds of people running around with your Semblance. Won't that be a sight to behold?"

If there had been any doubts this not being a bad place to be, they were gone by now. Ruby yanked with all her strength – and while she was amazed to _have_ that strength in the first place, it didn't detract from the terror.

"You can't keep me here!" she wailed. "My team will save me! Dad! Uncle Qrow! Ozpin-"

"Ozpin has already rejected a trade for your safety."

It was a leaden blow to the gut. "N-No. You're lying!"

"Why would I? I already have you here. No need for it. I'm afraid that, like me, Ozpin has to make decisions he feels are in the interest of the many, not the individual. While I'm sure he does hold some affection for you, that affection does not eclipse the usefulness of another. Still, that shouldn't be a concern for you. You're still going to be a hero."

Not in a way she wanted. Ruby screamed and pulled at the restraints. "Let me go! Let me go! Why are you doing this!?"

"Why am I telling you?" he asked, misunderstanding the question. "Because, Ruby, I look at you and I see myself. A child on the cusp of adulthood, longing to make the world a better place. You don't understand now, that is fair, I didn't at first either. But the truth is that no matter how much we might wish it, one man can only do so much. We can't save everyone like this. You cannot feed a man by giving him a fish. You must teach him to fish for himself. We must empower the people and give them the tools they need to fight back." He petted her arm. "That is what Chivalric Arms stands for. In time, I hope you will come to understand that."

Ruby screamed. She screamed and she screamed, hoping anyone would come help her, and she continued to scream as Matthew Fields opened a silver briefcase on the desk beside her, removed a needle attached to a syringe full of blue liquid, tapping the needle with his fingernail. And she screamed as it was painfully inserted into her arm, directly into her bloodstream.

"There can be no progress without pain," he told her warmly. "No gain without sacrifice. You should know that as a huntress. Don't worry. All I do is for the betterment of mankind. You'll soon see."

/-/

Jaune hadn't seen much point in telling Roman or Cinder what he was planning. It didn't interfere with Cinder's plans, but she still might try and stop him if only because he was more valuable to her alive than dead. Roman had never cared for this work anyway and might go to Cinder to warn her. Neo, though. Well. She was in the same boat as him and had been through much the same things. He drew her aside and whispered their plan into her ear, and she hadn't left his side since.

As the hour ticked late, they excused themselves and slipped out, him in a hoodie and Neo taking on a disguise with her Semblance. It wasn't dark out despite the hour, mostly due to the car lights, neon signs and illumination from apartments, homes and streetlights. It was raining again. It had been a lot lately, and the noise might help drown some things out.

Team RWBY were already waiting by the intersection they'd agreed upon earlier. Neo snarled on seeing them, dropping her illusion and reaching for her weapon. Jaune laid a hand atop hers to stop her. "Later. We're on the same side for now."

"Will she be safe around us?" Blake asked waspishly. "She tried to murder us before."

"You _did_ murder our mother."

Blake flinched, as did Yang and Weiss. Neo stilled under his hand, perhaps surprised that he'd referred to her as though she was a sister. In a way, she was. She'd ben as good as adopted by his mother, and he liked to think Neo had granted her some peace by being near her, something to hold onto.

He pushed past Blake, slamming his shoulder into her aggressively and knocking her back. It was childish, but if he didn't get some of his own back, he'd only keep wanting to stab her. The building ahead wasn't yet marked as belonging to Chivalric Arms. They'd only been here for a single night after all. It was a modern office building with a front entrance, a kiosk by the closed gate, tall windows and empty signage just waiting for logos and slogans. It didn't fit their image, though the people who owned and were renting it out probably couldn't have predicted their tenants would be a military organisation dabbling in human experimentation.

Would they have cared if they did? Possibly on a moral level, but they'd still rent out to them. They might tut, shake their heads and think how horrible it is, but money was money, and as long as it wasn't their friends and family being experimented on, it didn't cost them anything.

He wanted to run straight in and rip the place to pieces. This time, however, he couldn't. There'd always been the advantage before of knowing they couldn't quickly move one of his siblings out, but here, they were after one man. Or he and Neo were. Team RWBY might have disagreed, but saving their leader wasn't on the list of his goals. If it worked, it would be a happy coincidence, and maybe it'd be enough proof to place Chivalric Arms in danger. He doubted it, but it was worth leaving the girl he'd tried to kill alive just to see.

_If it doesn't then I'll always have a second shot at Blake and her team,_ he thought dispassionately. He would be attacking Beacon with Cinder, after all. Their alliance was a temporary thing at best.

For the chance to kill the CEO of Chivalric Arms, he'd put up with Blake.

"It looks quiet," Yang said. "Are we sure this is the place?"

"It's eleven at night, Yang. Of course it's going to look empty on the outside. This may or may not be where they're keeping Ruby, but Ja- Null has already hit every other secret facility they have. I imagine they're out of options at this point. At any rate, we'll find some clue as to where they're keeping Ruby insi- w-wait!" she called. "Where do you think you're going?"

Jaune looked back over his shoulder as he stalked forward with Neo. "Inside. Unless you want to spend all night waiting out here for them to see us."

"S-Shouldn't we come up with a plan first?" Yang asked, jogging to catch up. "We can't just bust the front door down."

"What would you suggest? Walk up and claim you captured me? They'd take us all in. We know nothing about the interior layout or how many people they have inside. We can't plan anything." Adam had always been clear on that. Plan for what you could, but in situations where you couldn't, strike hard and fast. "We're four Huntresses and my Semblance. We'll be fine."

"Three huntresses-in-training," Weiss said, looking to Neo and not knowing how to categorise her. "And they'll have people just as strong inside, I imagine. I'm all for saving Ruby, but how can we match up to them?"

"It'll be fine." It was Blake who spoke, staring ahead without once looking to him. "With Jaune's Semblance, it doesn't really matter who we face. They'll all fall to a single bullet. Our job is just to keep the better trained people off his back."

He snorted. "Just like old times, huh?"

"Yes." Blake sighed. "Just like them…"

He'd have loved to rub it in. Drag her down to his level and force her to admit that she was no better than he in the end. Any time wasted was time for their target to escape, however. "We'll go with the same plans we used in the White Fang. For the rest of you, that means we go in and cut off the escape routes first, then sweep the building after. Look for a hangar or any Bullheads. Or, failing that, render any vehicles you fund unusable."

"We're going in loud, then," Weiss said miserably. "Atlas will hear and be forced to send troops to stop us, won't they? I might have to face Winter…"

"Depends. They may have things they don't want Atlas to see, and they might prefer the chance to take me alive while they can." He eyed them dangerously. "That's something to keep in mind. They want me alive. You can all die as far as they're concerned. Don't pull any punches."

And if they even _thought_ of betraying and trading him for their team leader, well, he could make sure they caught a stray bullet in the gunfights that were sure to ensue. He nodded to Neo, who returned it. They'd already shared their own contingency plan of what to do in the case of a betrayal. For now, though, the promise of Fields was too good to give up on.

They approached the gates, large metal but not overly impressive things more set up to dissuade pedestrians and car parkers than determined intruders. Yang checked the padlock, but Blake scaled to the top and Weiss used several glyphs to get over, then kept them active for the rest of them. Jaune vaulted the top last, landing with a thud on the inside. His hoodie would keep his identity secret but Team RWBY really hadn't put the same effort in. They hadn't even hidden their faces or hair. He caught sight of a few cameras already blinking over the car park. They'd probably already be seen, and a silent alarm would have been tripped.

"Last chance to back out," he told them.

"We're committed," Yang said angrily. "I'm saving Ruby no matter what."

"We'll see. Be prepared to strike to kill inside," he warned. "And remember one thing. Fields. Is. Mine. If any of you try to touch him, our deal is off, and I'll carry through on the threat I made at the docks. Got it?"

The three girls glared at him. "We understand," Weiss rasped. "As long as we get Ruby, he's all yours."

/-/

"Sir. There have been shots fired by the front entrance."

Matthew Fields looked up and away from Subject-S, face smeared with sweat and a little saliva from where the girl had screamed and spat at him. He picked a white handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed himself clean before addressing his suited bodyguard. "Oh my. Already? Has anyone been able to confirm the intruder?"

"I had all the teams wear remote aura sensors, sir. They're fluctuating wildly. Moments of full aura and moments where there is none at all. It's Null, sir. He's entered the building."

"Marvellous. He has come home to us at last." Smiling, the man stood, taking away the empty syringes and laying a passed out Ruby Rose back down on her cushion. "Have the retrieval teams sent to capture him."

"Sir, he's come with others. I doubt the retrieval teams will be enough on their own."

"Of course they won't be, but they'll hinder him long enough for us to prepare."

"Shall I ready a vehicle to leave? We can force Ironwood to intervene-"

"Oh no. Goodness no. We have Subject 000 right where we want him, and those fossils in Atlas are too eager to see their involvement tidied up with his death. I won't have us lose the most promising Semblance we have ever seen just because some powerful individuals want their skeletons to remain in the closet. Order the researchers into the lower levels. Seal the bunkers tight and instruct the fire teams to funnel the Subject toward us."

Matthew removed his surgical gloves and straightened his tie, inspecting himself in the mirror before noticing a small smear of blood down his face. Subject-S had bit her lip in her cries and spat it into his face. Humming to himself, he wiped it away and smiled at his own reflection.

"What about Subject-S?" the bodyguard asked. "Should I have her escorted to the cells?"

"There's no need. Project-P, are you there?"

A quiet voice rose from behind the door, as a small and stiff-backed girl walked inside. Her shoulder-length orange hair and freckled face met his, eyes staring blankly. "Yes, Uncle Fields?"

Uncle. How adorable. Pietro certainly was a sentimental one. Then again, the biggest geniuses often were eccentric in their own way. "I did, Penny. I want you to watch over Subject-S and prevent anyone taking her without my permission. You are authorised to kill anyone who tries. Do this and I shall be awfully proud of you. Your father will be proud, too."

Penny looked down at the girl on the bed. Her eyes softened. "Who is she?"

"No one you need concern yourself with." Matthew walked by, placing a hand on the fake-girl's shoulder as he went. "Simply stick to your orders and all will be well."

"Yes, Uncle Fields."

"Such an obedient girl. You do your father proud. Come!" he called to his bodyguard. "Our missing son has returned, and it is we who shall welcome him home and back into the fold." Fields chuckled. "Back where he belongs."

* * *

**If you're already in the business of manufacturing weapons, why not manufacture Semblances? They're weapons in their own right after all. And if you could do that, well, you **_**could**_** help a lot of people on Remnant. Survival odds versus the Grimm would be so much greater if you could give people Semblances with so simple a means as a vaccine as a youth. Just a little injection to ensure you grow up fast enough to outrun the Grimm, strong enough to lift boulders and resilient enough to shrug off bullets.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 26th**** October**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	36. Chapter 36

**I have returned from the abyss. Still super busy and have my event this Thursday, so no Headmaster Arc upload, but things after that should go back to normal. It's been a stupid month and I'm looking forward to November.**

**Thanks to all for understanding why I needed that week off, been in and out of work constantly fixing things that shouldn't need to be fixed. Going to be doing more of that tomorrow and Wednesday and Thursday, but I thought it would be a little over the top to take two weeks off.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 36**

* * *

The alarm within the building blared as Neo withdrew her thin blade from a man's lung, stepping aside so that his body could slump to the floor and join the others dotting the corridor. Six in total, two claimed by her and four by her partner, though that was mostly because she had to close the distance before she could kill them. Jaune Arc walked through the carnage leaving bloody footprints in his wake, carefully reloading his handgun while the three huntresses dithered behind, caught somewhere between shock and horror.

"Did we have to kill them?" the blonde asked.

Neo sneered.

"I warned you." Jaune said. "You told me you were ready."

"I am! I just… Everyone? I figured we'd kill the ones responsible and let the rest go."

"You figured wrong."

"We're fine." Blake lied. "Now what? Ruby is probably being held in the testing labs or the cells if we assume this place is lined up like the other labs we raided. They might be moving her to a hangar, though. We should cut that off."

"Hm." Jaune agreed. "I don't want this bastard escaping."

A loud and echoing ringing sound buzzed through the hallway as a microphone was brought into focus. Team RWBY looked around wildly, while Jaune simply waited, Neo silent by his side. The constant noise reached a high pitch, cracked and then evened out. When next it came, it was a smooth voice playing out from speakers set further down the corridor, blasted through the entire building.

"_There's no need for such language now, is there? We should be able to talk this out like adults."_

"Fields?" Jaune asked out loud. "Matthew Fields?"

"_Of course. It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Subject 000 and, if I'm not mistaken, the teammates of Subject-S."_

"Subject-S?" Yang hissed. "That's my sister you're calling a test subject, you suck freak!"

"_Freak? How rude. Not nearly as rude as breaking into our esteemed company and murdering our employees, however. I wonder what Beacon would think if it learned about that."_

The girls flinched, though Jaune sent a quick nod to Neo. Illusions formed in the shape of her, while the real Neo vanished and darted down the corridor in search of the speaker. While he longed to kill the man responsible, keeping him talking now would hopefully keep him busy."

"They won't say anything once we reveal what's been going on here!" Blake said. "You're a criminal, Fields. Your time is up."

"_Is it? Am I?"_ The man chuckled richly. _"I expect the world will disagree with you, my dear. You see, criminality is not some black and white matter as many would have you believe. Laws are guidelines, and like all guidelines they can be broken in moderation. Whether or not you are a criminal is decided in a court of law or, in some cases, behind closed doors. Considering that my actions are sanctioned and in no small way funded by Atlas, do you truly believe it is I who will be considered the villain here? Or will it be you? Three girls breaking into a private business, murdering its staff and causing millions in damages, to say nothing of consorting with a wanted terrorist. It all looks rather… suspicious, don't you think?"_

Team RWBY looked shocked. Or Yang and Weiss did. Blake was scowling but not at all surprised, as well she shouldn't be since this was how things had always been for them. Still, Jaune took a little pleasure in the helpless rage on Yang's face. Now, she understood what he felt like. Congratulations for living a day in _his_ world. A world where the rich and powerful decided what was the truth, and you had to deal with it.

"Don't let him distract you," Blake said. "Just as Atlas would disavow us and force Beacon to do the same, they'll drop him the moment he stops being useful. If he dies here today, Atlas won't raise a fuss. Not and risk their good relations with Vale."

"_Yes, there is always a downside to every up, isn't there? I have the freedom to do whatever I wish so long as I put some small effort into concealing it, but should I be discovered, the Council of Atlas will turn on us in an instant. They have to, you see. Their power comes not from wealth or technology but public opinion. And opinion. Opinion is easy to sway, at least en masse. Take a single man with an opinion and no amount of proof, evidence or fact will force him to change his mind. But take a crowd, take ten or a hundred thousand, and suddenly it's a homogenous blob of apathy and disinterest. As long as they themselves are not affected, they will accept whatever inconveniences them the least. It's quite sickening, honestly. For all that I use it, I'd give anything for people to care just a little more about the world we live in. Alas. I work with what I have."_

"Where are you?" Yang yelled. "Face us!"

"_Face you? My dear, you come here and break into my business. I believe it is you who should come to me. My office is on the second floor. I look forward to meeting you face to face. And you, Subject 000. I have wanted to meet you for the longest time."_

Jaune gritted his teeth. "Then just wait there. Wait there and I'll come find you."

"_Hmhm."_ Matthew Fields chuckled. _"I intend to."_

"Where's Ruby?" Weiss called out. "What have you done with her?"

No answer. The line went silent and Yang stomped her foot angrily. "That son of a- oi, where are you going!?"

"Second floor." Jaune answered, already moving on. "I'm not here for your teammate. I'm here for Fields. You three can do whatever you like." He walked away from them, headed toward the end of the corridor as the illusion of Neo shattered into pieces and fresh screams began in the distance.

Chivalric Arms had prepared for Null. They'd brought their special units dedicated to dealing with him, ranged specialists with gas grenades and military training. They had little defence against Neo, who could appear in the midst of them and start killing before they could react. By the time he reached the corner and turned it, the blockade ahead was silent. Four people, he noted. Their bodies were strewn around with blood splashed up the white walls and one body humped over the railing of a staircase. Neo kicked a grenade launcher off the bottom step, wiping her sword clean on her white sleeve.

"Second floor," he said in case she hadn't heard. Neo nodded. The elevator went ignored as too dangerous – gas could have been pumped in from above. Aware of the possibility of an ambush above, they took the stairs slowly, making their way to the first floor before pausing for Neo to make herself invisible and scout ahead.

While she was doing so, he heard footsteps below, followed by the clack of heels coming up the steps. Blake, Weiss and Yang caught up, hunching down when they saw him crouched before the final rise.

"You're coming with me?" he asked, surprised. "Your teammate is probably in the lower levels."

"That's assuming this place has a basement," Blake replied. "It's not one of their labs remember, it's a rented building."

True. He hadn't thought of that. Chivalric would be making do with whatever the layout of the place was before, which might explain why it was an easier attack. _Also the lack of a hangar. What business in the middle of a city has a hangar?_ That meant no escape for Fields unless he dove out a window. Jaune licked his lips, fingers rubbing over Mors as his heart raced. Finally. Finally, he had the man. He had all of Chivalric.

"We figured he's our best bet of finding out where Ruby is," Yang said.

"You _will_ let us question him first, right?" Blake asked. "We need him alive for a bit."

"Sure." He wanted to take his time with the man anyway, and he had his own questions to ask. Fields might have been behind all this, but there were others too. This Council of Atlas had to pay for what they'd done, and he had to rescue Sable, Saphron and Terra anyway. "You can ask your questions as long as his fate is mine to decide. Otherwise the deal is off."

"He's yours," Weiss rasped. "Though I imagine you've already decided what his fate will be."

Of course. For everything Fields had done, there could only be one punishment.

/-/

Project-P, Codename: Penny, watched as Target Designated: Subject-S awoke from medically-induced unconsciousness. Her processors considered the array of options available to her before defaulting back on her prime directive, instructions from father, to obey Uncle Fields. He had told her to watch and maintain Subject-S. Penny stood in silence, face impassive as the human girl woke up.

"W-Where am…? No. It… It wasn't a nightmare…?" The girl's voice broke into a strangled sob at the last. "I want to go home."

Penny shuffled as an uncomfortable feeling worked its way through her CPU. It was little to no surprise Subject-S did not want to be here; Penny could not see why anyone would desire to be in such a place. That she was here against her will was also painfully evident, and Penny's searches had brought up numerous laws and regulations that prevented such, rendering this endeavour highly suspect despite father's hasty assurances there was nothing wrong here.

Penny was not foolish. Or at least Penny liked to think so. Penny could accept being incorrect on that assessment, but the array of medical equipment, shackles and bindings keeping the small and helpless girl down suggested she was not.

Follow Uncle Fields' orders. That was what she had been told. Father had been clear that Uncle Fields' instructions were to come even before the laws of Vale, though not, he had added carefully, before his own. When she had asked why he felt the need to distinguish that, he had clammed up and told her to do as he said and ask no more questions. Frustration was not a concept Penny had been designed with, and yet she still felt cheated.

"P-Penny…?" Subject-S was looking at her, and more surprisingly, appeared to know her name.

"Good evening, Subject-S. It is 0017 hours. How may I assist you?"

There. Nice and polite; her father would surely approve.

"Penny? Why are you here?" The girl's eyes widened. "Penny, you need to get me out of here! There's this crazy guy – he's looking to steal my Semblance. Or my eyes! My team, Beacon, I need to get back to them! Quick, before he gets back!"

"I am afraid I can't do that!" Penny said happily.

Subject-S flinched. "W-What? Why?"

"Uncle Fields has told me to keep you here," she explained. "I am to prevent anyone taking you without his permission. Therefore, I cannot take you to Beacon as I have not been given permission to." Penny tilted her head to the side. "Is there some other way I might assist you?"

"Penny?"

"That is my name. What is yours?"

"Penny, it's me, Ruby! Ruby Rose!"

Ruby? That was a name she'd never heard before assigned to a person and yet… it was familiar. Somehow. Not emotionally, but like she'd seen it before and couldn't quite place where.

"Hello Ruby Rose. I am Penny Polendina. It is nice to meet you!"

Less nice for her, Penny imagined, but it didn't hurt to be polite. If she could cheer Subject-S up with a smile then she would. Sadly, it didn't seem to have the right effect.

"You… You don't remember me…? Wait, Null hurt you – he killed you!"

Null. Jaune Arc. Designation: Subject 000. Penny nodded, having read the limited reports father had allowed her to. "That is correct. I was ambushed, attacked and put out of commission by Subject 000. I am not aware how you factor into that, however."

"I was there! We all were! Penny, don't you remember? I'm your friend! It's me, Ruby! Friend Ruby!"

Friend…? Penny's first instinct was to deny it, yet the girl looked so distraught. Penny scanned her memory banks of human interaction – father had stuffed her head full of so much theory on how to interact, and though she couldn't apply it all perfectly, she could draw on it.

This kind of response from Subject-S implied pain, grief and loss, alongside the fear that was almost certainly warranted given her unenviable position. Why such a poignant reaction to her demise, however? And the suggestion that Subject-S had been there was also out of place. Penny's memory of her demise was absent, removed and corrupted, or so father had claimed, and the damage done to her body would have supported such a claim.

Why would father lie about someone's presence in the fight, though? That didn't make sense and she would not have believed it at all if it weren't for the fact Subject-S knew both her name _and_ the fact she had died. And to whom it was. Hadn't father said that knowledge was classified information? Why would a student of Beacon know it?

"Penny, we were friends!" the girl continued quickly. "We met in Vale, I showed you around, you said you were coming for the Vytal Festival with your team."

All of that was true. Father had made the decision to remove her from the tournament, however. Something about General Ironwood no longer being trusted to support Project-P. Now, she had Uncle Fields to rely on. General Ironwood was only to be followed so far as politeness dictated, but his directives were to be forwarded to Uncle Fields for consideration.

Still, Subject-S appeared to be convinced she had met with her body prior to its destruction. This, Penny reflected, was entirely possible. Father had stated that she'd been allowed to roam through Vale, and since her cover had been as an attendee to the tournament, what was to say she had not met this girl before?

_If so,_ Penny thought, t_hen there is a chance we were indeed friends!_

How exciting!

"Please, tell me more."

Subject-S looked hopeful. "Will you help me escape?"

"I will not." She felt bad for crushing the girl's hopes like that, but honesty felt deserved here. "Uncle Fields has told me to not let anyone take you, and I will not. I am sorry, Subject- I am sorry, Ruby Rose. You are an asset of Chivalric Arms now."

Just like her.

/-/

"Is it just me or are there less people here than there were on the ground floor?" Yang asked.

"It's not just you," Blake said.

"That suspicious?"

"Not really," Weiss replied. "They will have sent the majority of their forces to the ground floor to deal with us. Once we broke through those, I imagine we dealt with the most of their men."

"We, huh?" Yang snapped. "Doesn't feel like much `we` involved."

Jaune could have laughed. They hadn't killed a single person between them yet, not even when those people had been shooting back. They ended every fight with unconscious or disabled opponents, only to cry out in shock when he or Neo would walk up and execute them. They didn't stop him, though Blake had to hold Yang back, but neither did they take the step and do it themselves.

Easier to outsource the responsibility onto him.

Did they not realise what would happen if those people woke up? An attack from behind would be fatal with his Semblance active. They couldn't afford to leave anyone behind to stage a counterattack or call for help. No, they realised. He'd told them as much himself. They just didn't want to dirty their hands, and when they had a killer like him on call, they didn't have to.

"Your own sister has been kidnapped and is likely being experimented on, and you still want to waste time criticising my methods. I guess she doesn't mean that much to you."

"Fuck off!" she snapped. "Ruby means the world to me and I'll do _anything_ to get her back!"

"Really?" Jaune kicked the last CA soldier over to her feet. "Prove it."

The man groaned weakly, clutching a deep and likely fatal would in his side. Yang Xiao-Long looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her body rigid and eyes locked on the dying man's.

"Y-You want me to kill him…?"

"Of course. He's part of Chivalric Arms. This guy was willing to open fire on a bunch of girls coming for their missing friend. Do you really think he wouldn't hold your sister down as people carved her open? He's one of the elites if he's trusted to guard the CEO. He knows what Chivalric is about."

Yang licked her lips nervously, looking up between the injured man and Jaune Arc. Her shoulders began to shake, and there was no telling if it was because she was angry or about to burst out crying. Neo scoffed silently from beside him, and he held a hand over her chest, telling her to give the blonde time.

"Yang. Don't," Blake whispered.

"Typical Blake. She said the same to me as well, you know. Don't take vengeance on the person responsible for murdering your father and ripping your family apart. Don't kill someone who personally suggested he should be able to molest and assault your younger sister because there would be more test subjects if she got pregnant." Yang and Weiss flinched and looked to Blake, while Jaune laughed. "She didn't tell you that one? The first person I killed in cold blood, though I didn't do it. I asked Adam Taurus to. He was a junior researcher who liked the look of my sister enough to suggest having his way with her. All in the name of science, of course. Blake said I should have let him go."

"It wasn't about his crimes," she argued. "Killing one person is a slippery slope, and you've gone tumbling down it. Look at you, Jaune. Lavender wouldn't want to see you like this."

"Don't you dare tell me what my own sister would want!"

"The real Jaune was a kind young man hurting and desperate to save his sisters from injustice! He wasn't a stone cold killer like you!"

Jaune couldn't hear past the thumping of his blood rushing between his ears. His hand tightened on Mors and _nothing_ sounded better than pointing it at Blake, activating his aura and blowing her head apart. She was so close that she had no hope of dodging and she knew it.

She also knew he'd be proving her right if he did. As satisfying as it might be, she'd die knowing she was in the right, and as petty as _that_ was, he wasn't going to do it. If, when, he took his revenge on her, he wanted her to beg. He tore his eyes away from her and back to Yang.

"The point remains. You three can't be trusted if you're not prepared to do this. It's your sister, so decide what is more important. Her safety or keeping the moral high ground."

Slowly, Yang knelt. The CA soldier didn't say a word. He didn't let out a peep. He knew his life was over the moment he met Null, and the man kept his lips sealed shut as Yang held his face gently between her hands, staring down with eyes clenched shut. The gasmask likely helped. It made the man look less human. Blake looked away, eyes closed, but Weiss Schnee stayed watching as Yang tensed her arms and twisted the head violently to one side.

The crunch of bone was incredibly loud.

It wasn't as satisfying as he'd thought it would be. The body dropped, lifeless, and Yang Xiao-Long stood up shaking and gritting her teeth together, tears leaking down her cheeks. What he'd expected would be a slap in her face and a win for him was simply a slap to both, more because she could still _feel_ bad for it and he didn't.

_Am I really that far gone? I don't `like` killing. I just have to do it…_

"There." Yang stared at him through her tears. "Is that enough for you?"

For once, it was Jaune who looked away, uncertain. "Yes." He took a deep breath and turned back to the corridor, moving ahead and pushing the uncomfortable feeling to the back of his mind.

Vengeance first. He could figure out why that hurt so much later.

A large and ornate door lay at the end of the corridor with two men in suits beside it. They looked nervous, terrified even, and when they approached, the two men placed hands on the doors and opened it, keeping their heads down in clear submission. Inside, a large and ornate chamber floored with tiles was revealed. At the back of it, before a giant window, stood a heavy wooden desk with a single figure sat behind it.

Matthew Fields.

Jaune's blood boiled and he stomped through the door despite Team RWBY's warnings. He kept Null down, expecting an attack or some form of trap on the inside of the door. None came. Yang, Weiss and Blake filtered in behind him, only to flinch when they heard two gurgles and thuds behind. Neo pulled the doors shut, leaving the two suited men bleeding to death outside.

The room was a good twenty metres by twenty metres, far too grand to be a simple office even if it had been turned into that. Six pillars ran down the left and right and toward the tall windows, scant space behind between the pillars and the walls. Paintings hung from those, numerous figures and scenes from across the world. There was even two sets of couches on the left and right, in the corner by the entranceway they'd come in, with little coffee tables and a barista machine. A long rug ran down the centre of the room, leading up to and under the hefty desk at the far end. Matthew Fields sat in a tall-backed leather chair, leaning back with his hands linked before him.

He was not the kind of man Jaune would have expected for the CEO of a powerful company. Matthew Fields was lithe and tall, well shaved and with his black hair slicked back. He wore a perfectly pressed suit, but it fit him well and there wasn't an ounce of fat on the man. He looked as fit as the soldiers he employed, and as calm as them. Despite watching his men be annihilated, he remained steadfast, standing slowly behind his desk with a warm smile.

"Welcome home, Subject 000. Chivalric has missed you."

Mors flew up and cracked loudly. Blake shouted out, but she needn't have bothered. The round impacted the man's hand as he brought it up, deflecting off his aura and smashing into the wooden desk. With the distance between them, he hadn't even bothered activating his Semblance.

"There's no need for that. I'm here ready to welcome you back into the fold. I'll even make a deal of it. Surrender yourself and I shall cease all pursuit of your family. I will personally ensure those General Ironwood has are released to join their fellows in Menagerie. They will all be safe."

Jaune fired again and a third time, each bullet deflected. He snarled and shook violently.

"Hm. You're angry. Is it because I mentioned Menagerie? Oh dear, was that supposed to be a secret?"

Chuckling, the man picked up a manilla folder and waved it in the air before tossing it onto the floor. Images spilled out, one skittering across the floor to him. On it, Ilia Amitola was sat beside Lavender sharing an ice-cream. They were both smiling. Jaune was not. He was shaking badly, eyes wide and heart pounding in his ears.

Chivalric Arms were in Menagerie.

"I have not yet ordered my agents to make a move on them, but I could. Personally, I don't see the point. I knew you would be coming for me eventually and yours is the Semblance I desire. They may have the potential to manifest it, but it's not a given. If you agree to aid us, I will allow them their freedom." Matthew Fields smiled genially. "How about it?"

"Never!" Jaune spat out.

"Really? Even knowing your family is in danger, you will prioritise your own comfort and revenge. Could it be that you don't care as much about them as you believe?"

Jaune flinched. "No, I… I'm doing all this for them." He steadied Mors on the man. "I'm just not willing to accept even one of us being locked up. It won't be an issue when I kill you."

"Won't it? Chivalric Arms will still exist without me. The empire I have built is too valuable for Atlas to do away with. My crimes, if exposed, will be swept away, I will be replaced and forgotten, and another will take my place. As it should be." He removed his jacket slowly, pulling each arm out before folding it over the back of his chair. His white shirt flexed as he moved, pulling against his muscles.

"Chivalric Arms is bigger than any one person. It is an ideal, and that ideal is for a perfect world where humanity isn't held back by the potluck of Semblances, where they can be chosen, propagated and shared at will. It is an ideal we all hold in our hearts, even if subconsciously." He offered his hand. "Won't you join me in reaching out for it?"

Twenty metres. He needed to be much closer before Null could take hold. Even then, he wouldn't let it end with a single bullet unless he had no other choice. _I have to rip Chivalric Arms down or it'll just come back like he says. I need evidence. Something to expose them._ His eyes slid to Team RWBY. _They're the perfect vehicle for it. I just need to get them the proof and let them do the rest._

"If you're all about manufacturing and sharing Semblances then why do you want his in the first place?" Weiss asked. "It's the antithesis of a Semblance."

"Even the lack of a Semblance has its place. If we are to hand out Semblances, then we must also have a way of taking them away. This is the responsible thing to do. Criminals, those who have abused their own or even just those with disadvantageous Semblances, an application of Null could take them away, rendering them harmless."

"It also lets you control them," Blake hissed. "If everyone relied on Semblances for everything then the one who could take them away becomes king."

"That's it, huh?" Yang mocked. "You don't want some ideal world. You just want to be the top dog."

"You may believe what you wish," Fields said, removing his tie and setting it on the desk. "It's not my place to convince you." He opened his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up, revealing thick corded muscle and a tattoo on his right bicep, an emblem with a scroll of text beneath it. His neck cracked as he stepped out from behind his desk and stood before it, arms held up in a loose boxing stance, as if he really thought he could take the four of them. "Come. Let me give you a vision of the future we shall build. And you want your sister back, don't you?" He curled his fingers at Yang. "I'll tell you where she is if you can beat me."

Lilac eyes flashed red and the blonde rushed in.

"Yang!" Blake yelled. "Don't!"

Jaune made no effort to stop her. Fields wasn't confident for no good reason and she would prove a useful way of figuring out the trick here. Whatever it was, it wasn't getting out the way. Matthew Fields kept a defensive stance as she raced in, throwing a haymaker toward his face. At the very last second, he slid one foot back to take the blow, and caught the fist against his forearms.

A wave of fire washed out from the point of impact, fed by Yang's own Semblance. It scorched the desk behind him and sent paper scattering to the corners of the room. Despite the punishing impact, however, Fields wasn't knocked back an inch.

Unwilling to be stopped, Yang pulled back and kicked up, spinning and smashing the back of her heel at his neck in a roundhouse kick. Fields wasn't fast enough to block it and her foot struck his neck hard enough to shatter bone. His head was knocked aside, but again his body didn't move. His aura held, and his feet remained locked to the floor, glowing a bright and obvious green.

He looked up at Yang with a dangerous smirk. "My turn."

Matthew Fields ducked and cancelled his Semblance, returning his feet to their normal colour. He stepped under Yang's body before she could fall, reared an arm back and delivered an uppercut into her stomach. At the last possible second, his aura flared, and his body _bulged_. His shirt ripped as muscles visibly expanded, his biceps growing as thick as a tree trunk an instant before the impact.

Blood and spit flew from Yang's lips as she was thrown up into the air, sent crashing into the ceiling before coming back down.

"Yang!" Weiss shouted, moving to rush forward.

Fields pointed at them. "Stay!"

Weiss, Blake and Jaune froze. Physically. A white sheen expanded over the two girls while Jaune's body locked up. Panic ripped through him before his eyes flared bright colours and the white aura shattered, releasing all three of them and sending Weiss stumbling forward. "W – What? What was that!?"

"His Semblance?" Blake whispered. "But I thought it was a strength-based one if he could take on Yang. How do verbal commands fit into that!?"

"They don't," Jaune hissed. The glowing feet, the bulging muscles and now a white aura spread over them. "He has multiple Semblances."

"Impossible! Semblances can grow and adapt but you can't have more than one!"

"Impossible?" Fields laughed. "My dear, flight was impossible before it was invented. Medicine was a mystery before someone discovered it. People used to think the world flat before we knew better. The impossible is simply that which has not yet been made possible, and thanks to Subject 000, our dreams are closer to fruition than ever before. And that's why your Semblance is so important."

Fields caught Yang as she fell and tossed her aside. The huntress crumpled in a corner, curling around her stomach. As the businessman strode forward, his arms and chest retracted to their normal size, leaving his now ripped shirt to flutter off a fit, but not ripped, body.

"You have so much potential. Subject 000 we named you, and there's a reason for that. You are the beginning of everything. It's no small lie to say you alone catapulted our research decades ahead, maybe even centuries." He cracked his shoulder and moved forward, and Weiss and Blake fanned out, Neo slipping into the shadows between the pillars. Fields kept his eyes on Jaune the whole time.

"The thing about Semblances, you see, is that they are very personal things. They tie into your soul. Souls don't like being mixed, however. It causes problems. It's like transplanting blood in a sense, but a thousand times more difficult. Two souls in the same body will inevitably fight and destroy one another. Unless, that is, we can dampen or even deactivate those Semblances."

"You used my Semblance to render others inert and then injected them into yourself…?" Jaune raised Mors but didn't dare use Null without knowing exactly what he was dealing with. "That's ballsy. What if it hadn't worked?"

"Then I would have died, of course, but don't worry, I didn't test it on myself immediately. There are always plenty of criminals available, and small villages outside the safety of the cities disappear all the time. Who would notice if one or two vanished under Atlas' watch?"

"You've been experimenting on innocent people."

"Yes." Fields smiled. "I'm sorry. Did you think you were special in that regard? Rest assured, we were very ethical in our selection and research. Alas, we reached a bottleneck in trying to graft Semblances onto new people. Their auras really did rip them apart. Quite literally in some cases. I thought for the longest time that we would never find an answer."

He breathed out, smiling blissfully. "And then we heard of you. Of your Semblance and the breakthrough it might represent. Oh, the excitement I felt. You wouldn't believe it. I almost called for Ansel to be razed to the ground, but luckily, your family decided on a nice holiday to Atlas and saved me the effort. And the rest, as they say, is history."

"How many?" Jaune gritted. "How many Semblances?"

Matthew Fields spread his arms and laughed. "Hundreds. Genetic material acquired directly from key huntsmen, borrowed from our employees and taken from the blood of every member of the Atlas military to have enlisted in the last fifteen years. I am a living gene bank for every Semblance to ever pass our doors."

Fields took one step too many.

Jaune lunged forward, hand outstretched and eyes flashing gold, purple and green as he roared, "And I can take every single one of them away from you!"

"Uh-oh."

The man smirked as Null reached him, only to shatter into glass.

Jaune's eyes widened. Neo's Semblance! Then that meant-

A bullet impacted his aura scant milliseconds after he dropped Null, saving his left leg from being blown away. It still knocked him off balance and sent him stumbling onto all fours. His head turned left and right, taking in the _six_ copies of Matthew Fields stood at varying spots about the room.

"**Now you see what you're dealing with,"** all six said at once, voices mingling into an echoing tenor. **"The perfect human. Imagine this but expanded out across all of Remnant. How could the Grimm ever hope to stop us? Chivalric Arms will create a new world, arming the chivalrous with the weapons they need to take back Remnant."**

Not without Null, they wouldn't. They needed him. Jaune clenched his teeth together, pushed his hand down and stood up, holding Mors loosely in one hand as Weiss, Blake and Neo tried to decipher which enemy was real. Assuming they _all_ weren't real. They had no idea what these clones were, what they did, or what other hundred or so other Semblances Fields had hold of.

"**It is time to return to the fold, Subject 000. As for our huntresses from Beacon, I am sure the world will despair to learn that `Null` killed you, but rest assured you shall live on within me."**He smiled and threw the remains of his shirt away. **"You will live on within the next stage of humanity in this bloody world of evolution. Now come. It is time for a field test."**

With a loud laugh, all six copies of Fields rushed in.

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**The bold at the end is literally just to emulate the sound of six of him speaking at once. It won't continue next chapter once the clones aren't in play thankfully.**

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**Next Chapter: 2****nd**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	37. Chapter 37

**Due to an issue with the site, this chapter may not even show for some people. It's not related to my stories specifically and is happening en masse across the site. Probably a server issue of some kind.**

**On a side note, all those reviews, lol. Would you believe me if I said I had to search Senator Armstrong on youtube to even get the reference? I did love MGS1 and played MGS2 on a friend's console, but we didn't like being forced to play as Rayden and gave up at the point of the story where the VR was going crazy, colonel was acting out of character and Rayden had to fight naked, etc. To us, it had lost what made the game interesting in the first place – the plot. As such, I never saw Senator Armstrong.**

**It's the muscle ripping shirt bit, isn't it? Lol.**

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**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 37**

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The clones – or perhaps illusions – charged in, and Jaune pedalled back, trying to keep all six in his vision at once. Fields would have had ample opportunity to take Neo's Semblance while she was under his control, but be they clones or illusions, they were still constructs made from his Semblance. They were still susceptible to his. The problem was getting all of them at once. Two rushed in for him while the other four went for Blake, Neo, Weiss and a Yang who was struggling to her feet. While he didn't particularly care about dropping their aura and costing them their lives to save his own, he might still need them against Fields.

The first copy of Fields reached him and drove a fist into his crossed arms, proving himself true and knocking Jaune back. The second came from the left, swinging a foot toward his back. The chance of it being clones was just great enough that he chose to raise his own leg to take it, and the meaty thwack of flesh on flesh told him these were no mere illusions. If they had been, the others wouldn't be having any trouble with them.

The Fields in front fell into a boxing stance and threw two quick jabs, one of which Jaune parried and the second of which slipped through to hit his shoulder as he leaned away. Sweeping Mors up, he shot twice into the clone's chest, causing it to explode into _confetti_ of all things.

"Semblances are strange things," the second clone said, driving a fist into Jaune's kidney. He buckled and swung back with the blade attachment on Mors, scoring a thin line on Field's thigh that yet again bled pink and white streamers. "There's no accounting for taste, I assume."

A Semblance that makes pinatas? Weird, but then Neo's illusions shattered into glass and he'd seen the missing girl from Blake's team leave rose petals behind when she moved. His own changing his eye colour into a swirling mass of viridescent light was similarly pointless. The biggest thorn in his side was how childish the Semblance looked. It hadn't been taken from a child, had it? He didn't want to imagine some poor kid trapped as a test subject.

The clone launched a quick attack; mostly punches, short jabs and ducking and weaving that really did work more like boxing than huntsman training. The blows came quick and sharp, focused on his head and neck, but as relentless as Fields was, they weren't impossibly fast or strong enough to shatter aura, let alone bone. Not strong enough to lift a girl up and throw her into the ceiling, either.

Could he only use one Semblance at a time? Strength and speed together would have been enough to overwhelm them, but Fields was back down to the level of a normal trained person. _There must be a limit. Either he can't use two at the same time or it's too energy intensive._ Fields had said aura and Semblances fought against one another.

"It looks like quantity won't be enough to deal with you," his assailant said, stepping away suddenly. The clone collapsed in on itself and tumbled to the ground in bits of colourful paper. Confused, Jaune looked around, only to see Team RWBY and Neo had dealt with all their opponents, and Blake was even helping Yang up. Right. Huntresses. They were better than him in a normal fight.

Did he tell them what he'd found? What if he was wrong or Fields heard and adapted? No, they weren't idiots. Jaune hurried over to Neo as Matthew Fields appeared back in front of his desk, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She cocked her head and nodded.

"An impressive performance," Fields said. "Expected of the next generation of huntresses. It really is a shame you had to step over the line. With the advancements Subject 000's Semblance offers, you may well have been some of the first recipients of promising Semblances."

"You took my sister!"

"Your headmaster took that which belongs to us. If you want to blame anyone, blame him."

"You fuck!"

The blonde roared her insult but didn't charge in this time. Fields noticed it and laughed loudly, walking forward. Blake and Weiss parted like water around a rock, keeping a decent distance as the topless businessman walked into the middle of the room. No one wanted to go near him. No one dared. Such was the danger with every huntsman; you didn't know what their Semblance was or how game changing it might be. It could kill you in an instant, allow them to become intangible or even fire lasers from their eyes. Fields had so many that _all_ those options were possible.

"Amazing, isn't it? Here I am, an ex-soldier, yes, but half your training and ability at best, and you all back down before me. Semblances really are incredible. You can be disarmed of a gun, equipment can fail, and robotics can be sabotaged, but a Semblance is all but impossible to deal with." Fields paused as the first footstep sounded, as Jaune stalked purposefully toward him. The businessman smiled. "Almost impossible. Is this to be our fated one on one duel, Subject 000? The lead scientist against his own creation? I'll warn you that the old cliché of the scientist killed by his own creation is something that exists solely in fiction."

They'd soon see. Then again, Fields had forgotten something. _They_ might be helpless once their auras and Semblances were down, two men reduced to street thugs, but the girls were not. "Attack when I have his Semblances down!" Jaune yelled, breaking into a sprint. He was close already, but it would only take another ten metres to put him in range and end this once and for all. Jaune's lips peeled back as he covered the distance. "Now-"

Fields _stretched_.

That was the only way to put it. His entire body seemed to stretch sideways like he was nine metres wide, like he'd been squashed flat. The parts of Fields closest to him blurred and disappeared less than a millisecond after, so fast that it was all a blur to Jaune's eyes. The man reappeared in front of Neo, elbow striking her face so hard her head snapped back, and she was launched off her feet.

"Neo!" Jaune chased after him. It still wasn't far, and speed alone wouldn't save Fields in a room that was only so big. His foot planted down, but this time it was the ground itself that seemed to stretch on ahead of him.

It _was_ stretching. Stretching out and becoming longer, like he was in a dream or horror movie and the exit kept moving further and further away. Jaune pumped his legs, but what should have been about twelve metres was now closer to sixty, then eighty and a finally a hundred. The distance between him and Fields was getting longer and longer, impossibly so and far beyond the size of the room, which had also stretched out. It was now about twenty metres wide, but over a hundred long, the length of a running track.

What kind of Semblance was this? Jaune activated Null and cancelled it immediately. The world _snapped_ back to its normal proportions, and the transition was a sickening one. His eyes – eyes that had been focused to a longer room – stung like he had grit lodged under his eyelids. His body lurched forward, unbalancing as his brain told him he'd moved a hundred metres in a second and tried to catch itself from a fall that wasn't happening. His stomach churned as though he'd driven over a hump in the road and was sailing downward.

Spatial manipulation? Distance control? Dimensional expansion? He had no idea, only that it had been used _on_ him, so Null could invalidate it. What it couldn't do was stop Fields using it, however. The man was a good distance away from everyone, but he swung his fist and suddenly Blake's face was at the end of it, snapping aside. Strength didn't matter. He'd either minimised the distance to bring himself closer or caused Blake to appear in front of him, but either way it turned what should have been a painful strike into a devastating hammer blow that sent Blake sailing through the air. Her trajectory would have taken her into a nearby wall, but suddenly everything changed; Blake struck Neo as she tried to get up, knocking them both down in a tangle of limbs.

"Space and time are such interesting concepts. How can you trust your perception of the world if the definitions you're used to keep changing?" Fields turned to regard Weiss Schnee as she appeared behind him, rapier stabbing for his back. The girl suddenly shifted ten metres away, or maybe the space between her and him _expanded_ ten metres. The rapier hit nothing, and Weiss stumbled on her landing. The next moment, the distance snapped back, and Fields yanked on her white ponytail, kicking her legs out from under her. "I've long wanted to sample the Schnee Semblance. We almost had it, you know. Ambrose Schnee was such a perfect subject, but for the once General Sol's interference. We lost a decade of research that night, not to mention the Schnee himself. Put out of his misery. What a waste."

He tutted and kicked Weiss away. Mors cracked and sent a bullet hurtling toward him. Fields could have tanked it on his aura, but he stretched the space anyway, putting what to Jaune's eyes seemed like _miles_ between them, that point starting just outside Null's range. The bullet still flew exceptionally fast, pinging off the wall as Fields stepped aside with the seconds he'd bought himself.

"We did get our own back. Stripped of his power, his position and more. Alas, General Ironwood took Winter under his protection, our contingency subject. We've been keeping an eye on your brother, though," he told Weiss casually. "Waiting for him to unlock it. That won't be a concern now with you here. It's almost convenient."

Jaune knelt by Neo and Blake, rolling the groaning Blake off his partner and pulling her up. "Are you okay?"

"F-Fine."

He ignored Blake's response, helping Neo up. The mute girl nodded stubbornly, pushing off him and taking a ready stance. She made no move to attack Fields, however, knowing that with the ability to stretch space, there would be no catching him off guard. He could put miles and miles between them, and close that distance in a single punch.

"He can't manipulate the space around me if I have Null active." Neo nodded but reached out to tap Mors and then point at Fields. "He does have a gun. He shot at me before. Shit, you're right. If I take us all under my Semblance for safety, he'll just shoot us."

The bullet could come from any direction and any angle with his ability to warp distance and direction. It'd be impossible to predict and they'd have five minutes of reaction time. Jaune wasn't sure of the velocity of a bullet, but he was sure it was more than five metres per second. Much, much more.

"Then I need to get close! He's only a problem so long as he can access his Semblances."

"Obstacles…"

Jaune glanced down, not really wanting to address Blake at all, but forced to as she croaked for his attention and struggled up. "What do you mean?" he snapped. "Be quick."

"He distorts the space between two people. If that's at a hundred metres and you parked a car between you, then when he brings that down to one metre, the car is still there. You'd both hit it. I think…"

She thought. How useless. Then again, she might be right. The bullet he fired had retained the same shape and size as it travelled. It hadn't stretched into a mile-long bullet. The snap back was also so instant that no one could react, which meant it had to be close to immediate. Terminal velocity. Or even _beyond_ terminal velocity, since this was already physics breaking.

"Neo. Ideas?"

The mute pointed upward. Jaune saw it without understanding, but Blake must have caught on. Gambol Shroud came up and she fired twice into the nearest wall, hitting the fire alarm button contained there.

The shrill alarm echoed through the building, making everyone flinch and look over for a second. The sound blared into the distance before a hiss on the ceiling was followed by the sound of running water. Moments later, droplets were sprinkling down like rainwater, sprayed from the overhead sprinklers. What difference that would make, he didn't know. A slip hazard maybe. Fields looked similarly unimpressed, throwing his foot up, the sole of his shoe extended, and closing the distance between him and Yang in a fraction of a second.

_CRACK_

Yang flew one way, shrieking. Fields was flung the other. A sound like a grenade going off echoed between them as water sprayed in every direction from the point of impact. The two combatants crashed down far apart, gasping for breath and clutching their sides.

"Even water is affected by physics," Blake gritted out with a feral smile. "Hitting a droplet fast may not _sound_ dangerous but have enough of them and hit them _fast enough_ and your body would lose its shape before the water molecules could. I expect that's what being hit by a water cannon feels like."

The room was full of water now, still raining down and leaving the floor damp. Matthew Fields was drenched through, his black and grey hair falling limp across his strained face. He stood, one hand on his side, and Jaune was sure that Semblance had been shelved for now. Even if it hurt both of them, he was one against five. They'd win out in the end.

"Clever," Fields gritted. "Very clever."

"Most people have a lifetime to get used to their weaknesses in their Semblance," Weiss said mockingly. "Its original owner would have never fallen for that. You may have a hundred or even a thousand Semblances, but you've not mastered any of them."

"Mastery is overrated when my options are limitless. Here's one you might recognise, Subject 000. After all, it comes from your own sister!"

The water in the air coalesced and grew into the shape of a giant hammer, giving them all the warning they needed to scatter before it crashed down, shattering the floor under the force of it. Yang lunged in, only to find herself swimming through a solid wall of water. It closed around her, forming a bubble with her at the centre, clutching her throat and slowly turning blue.

"Yang!"

"Damn it!" Lunging forward, he touched the bubble and activated Null, ending Fields' control over it. The water splashed down along with the girl, hacking and coughing for air. "Get close to me!" he yelled. "Don't let him catch you in the water!"

Weiss rushed over, using glyphs to give her the speed to duck and weave under the various lances and ropes of water lashing out at her. Those stopped within a few metres of him, splashing down on the ground as the water lost its ability to keep a simple shape. That didn't stop Fields surrounding them with it, though, building up more and more water around their position. He was going to slowly suffocate them.

"You may be able to think up clever solutions to a single Semblance, but your solutions can become my next weapon!" Fields shouted, weaving the water up into a large dome. His voice was distorted through it. "What will you do next? Drain all water from the air? I'll simply switch to a wind-based Semblance and rip you apart. Set the building on fire? I can control flames. Drop a bomb on me? Impregnable skin."

Swearing, Jaune started moving forward, wading into the water with his Semblance active, forcing it away as Team RWBY and Neo kept close enough to be under his protection. "None of this matters if you get me close," he told the girls. "And he's just a normal guy without all his Semblances. You have to have some way around this."

"My glyphs can speed you up," Weiss said, "But they'll end the moment you use yours."

"He'll kill me clones as fast as I can make them."

"Mine isn't any use unless I get close enough to deck him."

Useless. All of them. Jaune moved for the water dome, hoping to close it down before it could start draining their oxygen, but the dome moved with them, keeping a six or so metre radius around him so he couldn't get close enough to break through.

"Move for a wall," Weiss said. "He can't phase water through it."

"No, but he can use the wall as another barrier to air. Our best bet would be the window."

"That's on the other side of him! We'll never make it."

"Well stop panicking or you'll use up the air we have left!"

Teeth gritted, Jaune did his best to filter them out and think. Blake's hand touching his shoulder was the last thing he needed, and he slapped it away. That didn't stop her saying, "Drop your Semblance."

"What? He'll kill us."

"He won't know," she replied in a whisper. "We're distorted." The water. Of course! Fields couldn't see his eyes through it, and even if he could, Jaune could activate Null when the water closed in. Taking a deep breath, he released control, letting his eyes fade back to blue and everyone's Semblances return. "This is our best chance to think up a plan," Blake continued in a whisper. "We may well only have one chance to make this work."

/-/

The water dome expanded and then burst outward, shattered open by the sheer force of a ring of outward facing glyphs from the Schnee Semblance. Air rushed in and the party inside took their chance to split, Neo and Jaune running left, while Team RWBY hurried right, preventing Fields locking them back into a single prison.

"Dropping your Semblance, Subject 000? That's brave!"

Water hurtled after both parties, Team RWBY ducking behind the pillars on the left, letting the water splash off the marble. Neo and Jaune weaved around theirs, jumping over whips of water aimed at their feet. Mors snapped out and fired three shots mid-air, each punching through the water shield Field's brought up and impacting his chest. He staggered back with a grunt.

"My aura is still in one piece I'm afraid. The same can't be said for yours by now. You must have realised just how little your Semblance means." He launched a wave of water, forcing Jaune and Neo to backtrack, creating all the space Fields needed. "If you can get close, I'm done for, but I don't have to let you anywhere near me. In fact, I can create more than one type of barrier."

The water all over the room splashed down suddenly, heralding a change. Matthew Fields turned to Jaune and Neo, raising his hands high and then touching them to the ground. Thick, verdant vines tore out from his fingertips and rushed along the ground, covering a distance of seven metres before suddenly veering upward, growing toward the ceiling and spreading out across it to form a wall of plant life thick enough to slow them down.

Fields dropped that Semblance a moment later, leaving the barrier there and instead reaching out with both hands toward the pillars hiding three quarters of Team RWBY. He gripped at the air like he was holding two cans of soda, grunted and _squeezed_ his fingers tight.

Marble split and stone cracked. Dust and debris rained down as the pillars crumpled in their middles, buckling under the weight of their upper segments and crashing down with a fair amount of the ceiling itself! Blake, Weiss and Yang scattered, the latter two shouting out in alarm as they dove and rolled to safety. As the columns were tossed aside, he threw his hands open and summoned two balls of flame, the first of which he sent back into the wall of vines, setting them alight, and the second he detonated just behind it, causing a shockwave which sent the flaming thorns and debris erupting out toward Jaune and Neo, forcing them to hunker down or be shredded.

"He's not letting them close!" Yang shouted angrily. "Damn it!"

"Of course I'm not. Do you think I'm an idiot? I know more of how that Semblance works than its owner does. It's been the sole focus of our research for over a year – hundreds of millions invested into understanding and replicating it. I am acutely aware of its properties, and its limitations." He swept his hand toward Jaune and Neo, churning up the ground as if some invisible line had been drawn, forcing concrete up like a jagged cliff face and locking off that half of the room. "I'd invite you all to surrender but I won't insult you like that. I have too much respect for our proud huntsmen and huntresses to believe for even a moment that you would give up. I also respect your loyalty to your team leader, which is why I shall endeavour to make your ends as painless as possible."

Team RWBY tensed, Weiss and Yang backing up. Blake was left alone, wide yellow eyes fixed on Fields before she scrambled up and lunged back toward her teammates for protection. Too little too late. In that moment she was separated from the pack, she had made herself vulnerable. Fields activated some form of speed-based Semblance, charging forward with electricity crackling in his wake leaving behind the path he'd used. His hand lunged in for Blake's stomach and her eyes widened in shock and alarm.

Glass shattered.

Fields' eyes widened as his fist buried itself not in Blake Belladonna's gut, but Jaune Arc's. He buckled all the same, but he had the presence of mind to bring his head up, bright colours swirling up into his irises as the electricity faded, as everything faded. Gambol Shroud pushed up into Matthew Fields' stomach.

"Checkmate."

One shot. Two shots. Three shots. Fields' body bucked with each, driven up as the dust round discharged at point blank range into his bare body. His aura offered nothing, and blood burst out the man's back. Jaune would have kept firing but for Fields recovering and twisting the gun away, bringing his own around for Jaune's head and forcing him to retract Null seconds before he tanked the return fire, forced back under the weight of it. It was enough. Fields staggered back with his aura activating, but his left hand could barely cover the holes left in his body, nor could they contain the blood oozing out.

"You… You…"

"Jack of all Semblances and master of none," Blake said, over from behind the flaming rock and vines alongside Neo. "You've never had to _think_ about how to use your Semblances creatively. You just drop one the moment it stops being useful and pick up another."

"That's the difference between lab tests and live fire," Yang added with a feral grin. "Test subjects don't fight back. Now, I think it's time you told me where my sister is. While you still have time left to talk."

Matthew Fields staggered over to his desk and caught himself against it, leaning back with one hip while gasping for air. A faint white sheen covered his body as a new Semblance became active, probably one designed around healing or regeneration. Jaune doubted it'd work for so bad a wound, but just in case it could, he stepped forward and into range, cutting it off with a flash of his Semblance. Fields groaned and gritted his teeth, glaring at him.

"This won't change anything. Chivalric Arms is too big to fail. There are a hundred researchers who would step up to take my position. The Council of Atlas will elect another, and my work will continue. You remain the key. You and your family will never be safe."

"What happened to all that big talk of beating us?" Jaune asked. "That dried up fast."

"Hah. Hilarious." Fields grimaced. "Such a sense of humour. The difference between you and I, Jaune Arc, is not that I am a soldier, and you are a civilian. Do you know what that means? It means that I accept the possibility of my death in pursuit of a greater cause. I don't take it personally. You do. You rail against what you see as gross injustice for you and your family, never realising that all it really is, all your family ever were, was nothing more than a statistic."

Jaune brought Gambol Shroud up to the man's forehead. Team RWBY didn't try and intervene.

Fields smiled past the barrel. "Kingdoms throw away lives every day. Frontier villages, labourers, the sick and the elderly. You're not special, I'm afraid. That's why no one cared to note or mourn your family's disappearance. Just one more tragedy in an already cruel world. Mine, however, will have meaning. The mourning, the eulogies, the well wishes and the medals awarded posthumously. I hope you watch it all. Watch and see how the Kingdoms mourn the loss of someone who matters." His lips peeled back as he laughed. "Like you and your family never did."

Jaune Arc narrowed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. "This is for mom and dad."

Team RWBY looked away briefly as the gun barked once. Neo did not. The petite mute stared with barely contained glee, closing her eyes as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Gambol Shroud clattered to the floor a moment later, discarded alongside the body of Matthew Fields, CEO of Chivalric Arms.

/-/

"General Ironwood." Winter snapped a salute. "We have activity at the Chivalric Arms rented compound. A fire alarm has been raised, though no fire can be seen. Calls to the business are not being answered but lights have been seen inside. We have reports of gunshots. What are your orders?"

"There are no orders, Specialist."

Winter looked stunned. "Excuse me, sir?"

"I am prevented from investigating anything related to Chivalric Arms if you don't remember. I have no authority to order our men into their territory, or to move in their direction."

"Sir, it could be Null!"

"It could be. In fact, I expect that it is. Fields' arrival in Vale wasn't going to go ignored by him, not after everything that happened to his family. Still, my orders remain the same. I cannot order an investigation of their premises." He let out a long sigh. "My hands are tied."

"General…?"

"That said, I cannot take any observation over the area. If they are under attack, then I have no ability to interfere. I have also been told not to approach them." He turned away to look out the closest window. In the reflection of the glass, Winter could see the pleased smile he wore. "As far as we are concerned, there is no disturbance there. And even if there was, the Council has stripped me of any authority to intervene. I am sure Matthew Fields and Chivalric Arms can look after themselves, Specialist." Ironwood closed his eyes peacefully. "There is no need for us to worry."

Winter Schnee, Specialist of Atlas, stood silently, considering the words carefully before responding. "Understood, sir. I apologise for having troubled you. If the Council asks, I will tell them you held back from interfering with Chivalric's business, as per their request, and that they should forward the request through to Mr Fields directly."

The General chuckled. "You do that, Winter. And be sure to tell me how shocked they look."

* * *

**Matthew Fields (aka Senator Armstrong) dead. After watching a youtube video of that fight I'm glad I didn't intentionally base Fields off him, because I'm not sure how I could make a fight be held in such a weird setting. That's MGS for you. I heard good things about MGS3, but by then I'd stopped with consoles and moved onto pc, so I never played it.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 9****th**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	38. Chapter 38

**Here we go**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 38**

* * *

Matthew Fields' lifeless eyes stared up at him, dark pits of black now that the pupils had expanded outward. Jaune stood before him, panting harshly for breath and holding onto his stomach with one hand. He could taste blood on his lips from the last punishing strike.

It did little to take his vicious smile away. Deep inside, a small part of him felt he shouldn't feel so happy, that he should have found himself here at the point of revenge and instead felt a great deal of nothing, that he should walk away unsatisfied, retire and live a simple life on a farm. That was how the movies always portrayed it.

The movies lied.

A heady rush of pleasure had his breath shuddering out as his eyes fluttered. Finally, _finally_, his father's killer was dead – and it felt glorious. He wanted to laugh, cry and cheer at the same time. He wanted to run over and hug Blake of all people, scream in pure ecstasy and then burn this place to the ground. Speaking of.

"You." He stared at the blonde, making her snap to attention. "Your Semblances creates fire, right?" He nodded down to Fields' corpse. "Burn it. Burn the body to ash."

"W-What? Why?"

"He's right," the Schnee rasped. "Matthew Fields is a genetic library of stolen Semblances. Even dead, he's valuable to whoever takes over."

Understanding dawned and the blonde's eyes hardened. She stepped forward and past Jaune without further complaint, eyes flickering to red as her hair glowed. Wisps of smoke coiled off her body and she knelt, touching both hands to Fields' unmoving chest.

Jaune tried his best not to be impressed. It was hard. He nodded anyway, standing behind her and watching the dead man's skin blacken and burn. The smell was horrid, enough even to dampen his glee. Jaune turned away despite wanting to watch it all, holding a hand over his mouth and nose as skin, muscle and bone burned down. It was not a quick process, nor was it an easy one. Minutes passed by as crackling and popping sounded, and Yang had her eyes scrunched shut, mouth drawn into a sickened grimace as she worked.

They couldn't let his body fall into the wrong hands. It would mean all this starting over again. Whatever secrets the body held had to go, but that didn't mean the work was done. Jaune moved past Yang and the smouldering corpse and behind the desk, stooping to rifle through the drawers.

"What are you doing?" Blake asked.

"Chivalric's research doesn't die with him." He yanked a drawer out and hefted it up and over the desk, scattering its contents over the surface before throwing the drawer away. It shattered on the tiled floor. "This whole place has to go."

"Ruby is still in here somewhere as well," Weiss said.

"Then we're still working together for a while. Neo?"

The mute girl strode up and brought out a small satchel she'd had tied behind her back and under her coat. Unzipping its contents, the numerous charges of high explosives within made Weiss and Blake gasp.

"You can't! Not while Ruby is still here!"

"Blowing up an upstairs office wouldn't bring the building down," he said, zipping it shut again. "We'll get your teammate out and set the charges along the way. Alright?"

"Give them to me," Blake said urgently.

"Don't trust me with them?"

"I don't trust you to care about Ruby. Let me plant and use them."

He didn't hand the bag over. "Are you sure you can? Not going to get cold feet halfway through and run away like a coward?"

Blake scowled, took the bag and yanked it out his hands, then threw it over her shoulder. Jaune shrugged and went back to rifling through Fields' documents.

Financial reports, a rental agreement for the building they were in and a few forms of one sort or another. Jaune ripped the last drawer out and emptied it of a stapler, ball point pens and a calculator before chucking that away angrily.

"You're looking for evidence." Blake said.

Angrily, Jaune picked up the corner of the desk and rocked it back, hurling it onto its back. A gun was strapped underneath, but that wasn't enough to make anyone raise an eyebrow for a military contractor.

"He's not going to keep incriminating documents in his desk."

"Why would we need them?" Yang asked. "The guy tried to kill us, kidnapped Ruby and admitted to stealing hundreds of Semblances over the years. Everyone here is going to get arrested."

"Don't be naïve!" Jaune spat.

"What? I'm not-"

"They _did_ kill Jaune's father, _did_ kidnap him and his family and _did_ experiment on them," Blake cut in. "And no one cared, Yang. They're not going to change their tune just because it's us. In fact, we could be in serious trouble. We've killed an innocent man."

"Innocent!? Fuck off! He tried to kill us and harvest our bodies for Semblances!"

"That's not how they'll see it. Or spin it. Three huntresses working together with wanted criminal and terrorist to attack and slaughter their way through a registered business, then kill its owner in cold blood and burn the body. How do you think that'll look?"

Yang's mouth worked without words. She looked from Blake to Weiss, hoping for support, but Weiss only grimaced and remained silent. "S-Seriously? But we're- shit. W-We need proof then, don't we? We need proof he's doing shady shit to clear ourselves. And before Atlas gets here!"

"Atlas won't be coming," Jaune said.

Blake shot him a wary look. "How do you know that?"

Jaune shrugged in answer but nodded to the windows. If Atlas had been on its way, they could have surely made it by now. The cityscape outside was silent, however. Dark. Not even the police had responded yet despite their attack having started almost half an hour ago.

"I couldn't present any evidence even if I found it," he said instead of answering her question. "I'd be arrested or killed, and then they'd claim it was falsified anyway."

"We, on the other hand, can push it through Beacon. Is that why you brought us along?"

Among other reasons. He _had_ needed them to help against Fields, though he hadn't known at the time how strong the guy would be. Ultimately, their main use was in giving a different point of view to Chivalric. No one would believe a serial killer, but a team of young girls training to be huntresses, one of which was a Schnee and the other a victim of said company's experimentation? Well, that was a sob story right there. People would eat that up.

"We'll take photos along the way." Weiss said. "We need to find Ruby anyway, and wherever she's being kept may as well serve as evidence. Fields mentioned other people in the building, too. Scientists. If we captured some of them, they could be interrogated by Beacon."

They'd be taken away by Atlas before that could happen. Who would trust children to interrogate suspected criminals? He didn't argue, though. It was his best shot, and it didn't matter too much if it worked or not. He was already a wanted criminal. It would be Team RWBY facing the consequences of his actions tonight, and he wasn't sympathetic enough to care if they suffered.

_You said you were willing to pay any price to get your teammate back,_ he thought. _Let's see if you're willing to pay the same prices I did._

"It's done." Yang stood up from the body. Even the bones had been burned down until all that remained was a pile of dusty grey ash that Neo scattered with a kick of one heeled boot. It fluttered in the air, all that remained of the one who had taken his family.

"Good. Let's go find your teammate."

/-/

The door to the operating studio burst open and a man on a silver wheelchair rushed in, his dark face wrought with fear and worry. Ruby was about to beg him to release her and hope he'd prove more friendly than Penny when the girl herself spoke.

"Father. Hello. What is wrong?"

"Penny!" he gasped. "We're leaving! Quickly, help me gather the research notes!"

"Uncle Fields told me to watch over Ruby here-"

"Uncle Fields is dead!" the man said harshly. Ruby's heart almost exploded out her chest. Dead? That man-? Uncle Qrow? Dad? Yang…? Did this mean she was being rescued?

"Dead?" Penny asked, shocked but not entirely hurt, Ruby noted. "He was here talking to me not long ago. How did he die? He did not appear to be suffering from any heart condition."

"Murdered. We're in danger, Penny, grave danger. We can't be found here!" The man's chair wheeled him over to the metal desk by Ruby's bed. He rummaged around in it, pulling out several folders and stuffing them under his arm. "If we can make it back to Atlas with some of the material, we'll be looked after. They'll shield us from investigation so long as we're useful. It'll be like we were never here."

"What about Subject-S?" Penny asked, gesturing to her.

The frightened man looked at her as though he'd only just noticed the girl tied to a bed in a white hospital gown, strapped down and covered in sweat and tearstains. He swallowed loudly, looking away with clear guilt in his eyes. For a moment, Ruby dared hope he might release her.

"S-She's a witness, Penny. She's seen our faces – my face. We can't leave her here. It… It would be best if she… if she died…"

Fresh tears appeared in Ruby's eyes, helpless and warm. Desperately, she looked to Penny. Her friend wouldn't kill her, would she-? Not like this, tied down to a bed and unable to protect herself. "P-Penny…?" she whispered. "Please. It's me, Ruby. We're friends. Please don't do this!"

"Subject-S claims we have met before, father. Is this true?"

"No." the man lied quickly. "You've never met her. Quickly, please, just… make it quick. We can… We can leave after. Return to Atlas. Stay there. Hide. There's no need for anyone to know what happened here."

Penny stared at her father for a long time. "Kill her? Kill Ruby?"

"Yes. Yes, just get it over with!"

Panic gripped her. Ruby closed her eyes. _I don't want to die. I don't want to die!_

"I cannot kill her, father."

Ruby's eyes snapped open.

"What!?" the man cried. "Why not!?"

"Uncle Fields gave me a direct order that I was not to allow harm to come to her. You, yourself, told me I cannot go against his orders. Therefore, I cannot kill Ruby, nor can I allow you to."

"W-Wha-? Fields is dead, Penny! He is dead!"

"Regardless, his commands persist."

"Right. Of course." The man wrung his hands together and looked nervously to the door. "Well we can't leave her here to tell everyone we were involved. Fine. Restrain and bring her with you. Perhaps Chivalric will be even more generous if we're able to bring them one of their test subjects."

"Yes father." Penny smiled, nodded and moved over to Ruby's side, unshackling her wrists but tying them together with wire she produced from her own body. "Do not struggle, friend Ruby. You are coming with us."

Friend...?

/-/

"News from Atlas, Winter?"

"Several calls," the Specialise replied. "I instructed them all that you were busy with handling the security for the Vytal Festival and that, as ordered, you were turning a blind eye to anything done by Chivalric Arms. They were not best pleased, sir."

"I expect not. Look at this." Turning, James indicated a display screen that brought up several monitors each looking out over Vale and with a targeting reticule.

"Are these our targeting computers?"

"Displays attached to them, yes. They are affixed to our main canons."

"What is the point of-?" Winter gasped suddenly. As one, the screens began to move, each zeroing in on a specific part of the city. "Sir! The cannons are targeting the city! You can't mean to-"

"I have ordered no such bombardment. Curious that they are moving independently and aimed at where I believe Chivalric Arms' Vale HQ is currently based." James tapped on his intercom. "Override and shut down our weapons systems. That is an immediate order."

"_We can't, sir!"_ a panicked voice replied. _"They're not responding! Our systems have been hacked!"_

"Looks like they are trying to destroy the evidence," James remarked.

"No!" Winter cried. "If we fire on the city then-"

The Vanguard shook as all forty-eight of its canons fired in unison. The recoil rocked the entire battleship, which was designed to fire in concert. Ironwood gripped his chair as they listed to the side, Winter catching herself on the doorframe and holding on for dear life. Luckily, the battleship's systems and skilled crew were quick to compensate, activating thrusters and pulling them away, righting the course over the city without sending them crashing down.

"The damage!" Winter gasped, struggling to her feet and staring at the screens. "How many casualties…?"

The monitors showed Vale in its pristine condition, and the block the canons had been aiming at looked remarkably whole for a payload that should have devastated the area, destroying all houses within a radius of five-hundred metres or more.

"How?" she asked.

James touched the intercom again. "Clover. Report."

"_Clover here. All weapons systems associated with automatic targeting and control were unloaded six hours ago, as per your orders. We were able to keep it to a select crew of trusted individuals. You were right, sir. They wanted to frame you for the attack and remove you."_

"Of course they do. One can only go against the established order so many times without consequence." He chuckled at the stunned expression on Winter's face. "Look into the hack, Clover, and do not allow the weapons to be armed again. I will report on the _misfire_ myself and explain that our quick thinking safety protocols helped prevent a disaster." James cracked a nasty smile. "I'm sure they will be relieved to hear it."

"Shall I send a team down there?" Winter asked. "I can lead it myself and see what they are trying to hide."

"No need." James checked his watch. "I wouldn't want to give the Council any more ammunition, either. If all goes well, we should have answers within a few hours anyway."

/-/

Yang fixed Ember Celica on a man in a white doctor's uniform and watched him back slowly into the corner with his hands held up before him. Though he retreated from her, his wide eyes were locked on Jaune Arc, Null, the known killer who was busy looking over a whiteboard behind her.

Blake and Weiss were busy looking through the small lab which didn't contain any living specimens but did have plenty of mathematical equations jotted down on the boards.

"My sister," Yang explained as calmly as she could. "Ruby Rose. Short, dark hair, silver eyes. Where is she?"

"S-Subject-S?"

"She has a name!" Her fist knuckled under the man's chin, promising to blow his head off if he dared call Ruby that hated term again. Though she'd meant it to intimidate, she could visualise the image of his head exploding into gore and she wanted to pull her hand back.

The thought was nauseating, especially now that she'd actually taken a life. If it wasn't for Ruby needing her, she might have given up already and thrown up in a corner. Ruby did need her, though, and nothing was going to stop her saving her sister.

"Her name is Ruby. It's not _Subject_ and I'll break every bone in your body if you say it again. Where. Is. She?"

"I-I don't know. I promise. I'm just a junior doctor. I run errands. I do backup research. I don't know where any of the test- where any of the people are kept!"

"Is she on site?"

"Yes! Yes, she's in the building. That much I know."

"What does all this on the wall mean?" she demanded, pointing to what Blake and Weiss were trying to look over.

"It's a chemical compound-"

"For what? What does it do?"

"It's a healing compound. Or it's meant to be." He shrivelled up when she angled the barrels of Ember Celica with his eyes. "I promise it is! We were trying to synthesize a person's healing Semblance into a gel we could give out to Atlas soldiers. It didn't work, though. Without the aura powering the Semblance it's just dead genetic material."

Weiss shrugged and Yang sighed, pulling her fist back only to drive it into the man's stomach. He buckled over her, heaving and passing out. Yang caught and slid him down into the corner, propping him up so he wouldn't fall and hurt himself. It was a better fate than what Null had given the last guy to talk back to him.

_Would I feel any more forgiving if they'd experimented on Ruby for months?_

It bothered her that she wasn't sure. Jaune Arc was possibly the natural progression of what she could have become if it were her and Ruby in his spot. She'd already killed one person to prove she was prepared to do anything to save her, and that was only with Ruby gone for a day. Null lost most of his family, then had his parents killed. One of them by her and Penny.

"This is a bust." Blake said.

"We'll take the details about the Semblance." Weiss drew them out and stuffed them into a hidden pocket on her skirt. "I'm not sure it's illegal to experiment with a dead person's Semblance but if that person went missing or died mysteriously, we might have something."

"Might. This isn't helping us build a case…"

"We'll have a case once we find Ruby," Yang said. "Kidnapping is a crime."

"Set a charge here anyway," Jaune said.

"Not while an innocent is unconscious in the room!" Blake argued.

"Innocent? He's a researcher for Chivalric!"

"Junior. He wasn't even working on anything bad-"

"That you know of. That he said! He could have been slitting little children's throats in his spare time for all you know."

"Or he could have been saving them for all _you_ know. You're acting as bad as Adam, Jaune."

"At least Adam knows what loyalty means!"

"Enough!" Yang took Blake by her shoulders and shook her. "Calm down. The charges won't go off until you set them, so we'll just make sure everyone is out by then. We'll tell someone in the next room to take this guy out. Let's check the next lab," she said to Jaune.

He nodded after a moment's hesitation, letting her take the lead. Once they were away from Blake, he said, "She doesn't have the spine. When the time comes, she won't blow this place up."

"That's my partner you're talking about…"

"And she was Adam's once. It didn't stop her turning on him when things got too complicated."

"I know about her past. She's told me-"

"That Adam and the White Fang changed? That we became violent?" He shook his head, laughing harshly. "Don't be naïve. Do you really think the White Fang suddenly up and changed like that? Blake left not even a week before Beacon started. The White Fang were a terrorist group for years before that. You know that, right?"

_Of course I do._ The White Fang had been around for ages and she'd done her research once Blake came clean. People tended to think she was an idiot because of how reckless she could be, but it wasn't like she wouldn't do a few quick searches online to help sort the trust issues between two of her teammates. Weiss had a right to hate the White Fang, just as Blake had a right to feel the Schnee family contributed to its rise.

The timeframes had bothered her, though, even if she never admitted it. Blake had left just before Beacon by her own admission, and it wasn't like the White Fang had been a charity group before then.

"Blake knew what the White Fang were," Jaune said. "She knew how violent they were, what lengths they'd go to, and just how much blood would be shed. Blake knew and she accepted it. Agreed with it. The White Fang didn't change. Adam and I didn't change. Blake did."

"Is that so wrong?" she asked. "People can change…"

"Sure. And if she came to us, expressed her worries and said she wanted out, then I think Adam would have been prepared to offer her a way out. No one wants someone on their side whose heart isn't in the fight. The problem is that she didn't. Not once. Time and time again she let us think we could trust her, then backstabbed us at our weakest moment. Stranded me in Vale and nearly fucked me over."

"I don't think she _wanted_ to hurt you…"

"I don't care. It's the hypocrisy that gets me. If Adam and the White Fang _had_ changed then I'd have accepted it, but they didn't. They were the same when we parted as when I first met them. Blake is the one that changed, and she blames it on me, Adam and the White Fang because it's easier to blame us than admit she made the wrong choice supporting them for years."

That… Yang wanted to argue Blake wasn't like that, but she didn't know enough to say it. For all that her partner was a friend she'd risk her life for, she was aware they'd only known one another for a couple of months. It made sense Blake would feel guilty about what she'd done in the past, she thought all of the team had come to accept that. People made mistakes. It was learning from them that defined you, or so dad had always said.

Blake had learned, she was sure, but there was no denying she always talked about the White Fang like they'd once been better, like they'd been led astray and only she had seen the writing on the wall. _That's not true though, is it? The White Fang took and executed prisoners years ago and Blake was still a member then. _

It was easier to blame others than accept it yourself. Easier to say everyone else had changed, rather than admit she'd been a terrible person turning a blind eye to the awful things happening for so long. Yang closed her eyes, releasing a long breath.

"Blake is still my partner. Still my friend. People make mistakes…"

"They do." Null agreed. "Just don't expect me to forgive her. Next lab," he said, pushing the doors open. A soldier turned with a gun but died with a hole blown through his chest. The three scientists scattered, two dropping to the floor in fear as the third held up a clipboard defensively.

Yang wasn't sure if she should be upset that the cold blooded murder didn't upset her. At least she could take some small relief in finding it sad. Still, the guy had been ready to kill them.

"You two go back the way we came," she ordered the cowering scientists. "You'll find one of your own unconscious in the last lab with two huntresses. Tell them I sent you, carry your colleague out and escape. You won't be harmed."

Wisdom of following the advice of someone so young aside, the two couldn't have scrambled fast enough to comply.

The woman was left behind, looking visibly ill behind her clipboard and no doubt feeling very vulnerable since she'd been singled out and not allowed to leave. Really, it was just because she had grey hair and looked older. Yang assumed that meant she was more official or something.

"I-I can help you," she said.

"Good." Null lowered his gun. "Start by explaining what this is."

"This-?" she looked to the nearest wall. "It's not something I wanted to work on, I swear. We don't get a choice around here. Once you're in, you're too deep to back out. Most of us were just looking for work and thought Chivalric Arms was interested in coding or chemical polymers-" The gun came back up and the woman flinched and quickly jumped to the point. "It's a sterilisation agent!"

Yang scowled. "For cleaning? I thought this was an arms company, not a kitchen appliances firm." The woman looked visibly ill and Yang's stomach dropped. "It's not for kitchens, is it?"

"It's… oh, to hell with it! I hate it and I hate this place! It's a forced sterilisation drug. It attacks the reproductive systems and forcefully sterilises the host, preventing them from every being able to have children. I can't stand it!" she babbled, waving her clipboard about. "I studied for years in the hopes I'd be able to cure cancer or develop a wonder cure, not something like this!"

"You made this?"

"No. Not even. It was synthesized in Atlas. I was just tasked with making more here. Enough to…" Her eyes closed miserably. "Enough to account for all of Vale during the Vytal Festival."

"What!?" Blake, Weiss and Neo couldn't have arrived at a better time.

"Tell them." Yang demanded.

Defeated, the woman sat in one of the seats, hunched her shoulders and started to talk. "It's orders from above – from Mr Fields and the Board of Directors. At first, I wasn't sure what we were even dealing with. I was told that I was to synthesize more of it and that it would be disseminated into the water supply of Vale. I was nervous, of course, but we were assured that everyone would be drinking it, including ourselves, Mr Fields and the representatives from Atlas, so it couldn't have been a poison."

"Our first clue something was wrong was when we were mass producing it. The chemical structure wasn't difficult to piece together as a sterilisation agent; it includes several well-known contraceptive compounds, though in a dose you wouldn't find in temporary measures. They were inert, though. Clearly inert. As far as we could tell, it was safe to drink. I even tested it on rats and then tried some myself when there were no side-effects. My blood tests came back clean."

"Then what's the point of it? Population control? I know Vale had an issue with overpopulation that led to the Mountain Glenn disaster, but isn't its population lower since then?"

"It can't be that." Weiss argued. "Even assuming the Council of Vale would be so cartoonishly evil as to forcefully sterilise its population, they wouldn't do it during an international festival. The backlash aside, you're wasting money making so much when you only want to affect your people."

"Exactly," the woman said. "It's not for Vale. It's not for most people in fact." Her eyes lingered on Blake. No, not on her, but on her ears. Her bow had come off during the fight with Fields, exposing her faunus features.

Yang felt sick. "It's for faunus."

Blake rounded on her. "What!?"

"It's true," the scientist wept. "This… This _thing_ is designed to trigger when it is ingested by a faunus. There's difference enough in genealogy that the detecting compound triggers and releases enzymes, activating the sterilising agent and completely destroying the host's reproductive ability. Invisibly, too. You would never know, and the compound would pass through your urine before long. It wouldn't affect humans at all."

Release it during the Vytal Festival, though, and you could spread the agent across most of Remnant. It wouldn't affect every faunus in the world obviously, but it would impact the population all the same. At least by a quarter since Vale's faunus population would die out, then they could repeat the same steps at the next Vytal Festival, tackling the Kingdoms one by one, tagging along with Atlas to each event until all the Kingdoms had been contaminated.

"Why?" Blake asked painfully. "Why target us?"

"I don't know. We hire faunus. No one has ever cared about them before. We weren't even told what this was, the only reason we know is because we all got curious and dug into it. When I raised it with my supervisor, I was told to stay quiet and get on with my work."

"Would you be prepared to testify that?" Weiss asked.

"In court? Ha." The woman sagged. "You're stupid if you think it'll get that far. Or that I will. My name and character will be ripped apart and I'll have committed suicide `out of shame` before the trial. You can't beat Chivalric Arms. You're fighting Atlas."

"Would you be willing to try?"

"Why bother? It's not… hah. Fine…" The scientist smiled ruefully. "I'm dead either way for telling you this. If you think you can get me there safely, I'll talk. You'll need to move quickly, though. They're already moving to contaminate the water supply."

"I guess that's our evidence," Yang said. "We'll take some of these papers as well in case anything happens. If we can get her to Beacon and not let any police take her, I bet we can force someone to act."

The look on Null's face said he thought she was being naïve again, but Weiss and Blake nodded. If you didn't have faith in anything, you'd never make it work. It might be hard, but they'd get it done. Yang had faith _someone_ would act in their favour, even if it was just Uncle Qrow and her father. With Ruby's story on top, they'd surely have enough.

"Ruby! We need to find her."

"Where would the live subjects be kept?" Blake demanded of the woman, glaring hatefully at her.

"In the operating theatre, I imagine. They might have tried to move her by now, though. People are running left, right and centre. I can access the specimen cameras…?"

Yang's fists clenched at the word `specimen` but she nodded all the same. The woman scooted her chair over to a nearby computer and quickly logged in, Team RWBY crowding behind to lean over her shoulders.

"We only have access to the cameras for research purposes, but each testing lab can be monitored remotely in case we need to check on the subject." She flicked through a few rooms, each a sterile white colour with a bed in the centre. They were all empty, though one had a bloodstain on the floor that made Yang's stomach flip.

Thankfully, it wasn't Ruby. They caught her on the next camera, dressed in a white gown and being pulled up over the shoulder of a familiar orange-haired girl who Yang could have swore died at the docks. Penny turned with Ruby slung over her shoulder, bound by her ankles and wrists, and followed a dark-skinned man in a wheelchair out the door.

"Where is that!?" Yang snapped. "Who is that?"

"Pietro Polendina. He's new, I think, but he's already a head researcher. As for where, it's Operating Room 6. That's on the other side of the facility-"

Weiss gripped Yang's shoulder when she made to run and asked another question. "What are the evacuation protocols?" she asked the scientist. "Where will he be going with her?"

"Evac is normally straight to the hangars but there aren't any here. I guess it'll be upstairs and out the front entrance. There's emergency elevators dotted around the place. I-I could show you to the nearest one…?"

"Do it."

"Blake." Null said. "Give me the charges. This place goes, too."

"If there is evidence here-"

"There's evidence alright!" he snapped. "Evidence on how to make a compound to wipe faunus off the face of Remnant. Do you want people getting hold of that?"

Without a word, Blake tossed him the bag. Jaune Arc opened it and threw a charge to Neo, trusting her to take one wall while he did another. With the previous scientists out and the testing labs empty of victims, the building would be as empty as they could make it. Once they escaped, that was. Then they'd just need to save Ruby.

_And explain to everyone why we helped a wanted terrorist bomb a building and kill half the people inside._ Yang swallowed her fear and firmed herself. The only thing that mattered was her sister. Anyone else who got in the way would suffer the consequences.

* * *

**We're nearing the end of this story now. I don't know for certain, but I think it'll have between 45-50 chapters. A little more than I initially anticipated, but only because my plan basically had "raid of Chivalric Arms" as one point, and I didn't bother thinking that single bullet point might be more than one chapter, lol.**

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**Next Chapter: 16****th**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter ahead. Expect divisive opinions. Lol.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 39**

* * *

They gathered what evidence they could – chemical formula, files, Yang even ripped the computer terminal out its sockets and tucked that under one arm – before Blake used the ribbon of Gambol Shroud to tie the scientist's hands behind her back, and they made their way to the emergency elevators. The scientist's ID card hanging around her neck provided the key to opening and operating them, taking the silent group up toward the surface. The elevator was all but cut in two; Jaune and Neo kept to one side, huddled close and silent while three quarters of Team RWBY stood nervously on the other with their prisoner, muttering quietly to themselves.

Maybe they were worried about him. Their agreement had been to help them find their missing teammate in exchange for access to Matthew Fields, but with that done there was little reason for him to stay. That showed how little they knew. There was work to be done yet if he wanted to put Chivalric down. There was also a task left incomplete.

"Pietro will try and get outside the complex. He may have a safehouse in the city – I'm not high up enough to know about them. He can call for an evacuation if he gets to one."

"Will Chivalric provide it?" Blake asked. "They're in enough trouble already."

"I don't know." The scientist looked over at Null and then away quickly, paling. "It will depend on how valuable he's considered to the company. That might be why he took your sister with him. On the other hand, they may just as easily send someone to collect the subject and silence Pietro. Losing Fields might have spooked the company into a more drastic approach."

"Cut all evidence of their crimes away with a hot scalpel," Yang growled. "Nice company you work for."

"It's not as though they told us all this when we were recruited. By the time we learned, there was no option to back out. Not alive, anyway."

If she expected sympathy from him then she had another thing coming. As far as he was concerned, anyone working for Chivalric Arms had made their choice. The only reason this one lived was because her life provided a much more valuable service. Not that he expected it to matter. Just like with him, Chivalric Arms – nay Atlas and the world – would ignore any and all evidence in favour of maintaining the status quo. Nothing would come of this, of that he was certain, but trying didn't cost him anything here. It would be her and Team RWBY on the chopping block.

And quite frankly, he was in too good of a mood to care right now. Blake could have started another sermon on how far he'd fallen, and he might just pick her up and swing her around laughing at the top of his lungs. Okay. Maybe it wasn't that extreme, but as he looked at his reflection in the elevator's mirror, he couldn't quite contain his smile. Fields was dead. Chivalric Arms was bleeding. Could bleed.

_You thought you were untouchable. Now you know the truth._

The ding of the elevator had Blake walking out first, and he idly considered activating Null to see if she'd take a hail of gunfire. He didn't. Neither did she. Whatever survivors of the attack there were, they had clearly decided to flee instead of stand their ground.

"I can't believe it's this quiet." Yang said. "Isn't Atlas going to respond?"

"It was always Chivalric Arms who did before," Blake answered. "They would send their elite units to clean up, killing anyone in their way. I guess even they can't operate freely in the middle of Vale."

"Do you think they're cutting their losses?"

"Almost certainly. Probably preparing legal defences right now."

_Hmph. I imagine they have those pre-made and ready with solicitors,_ Jaune thought. The corridor outside the elevator was not entirely empty. Bloodstains and bodies from their earlier attack littered the area and the building's alarm was still going off. Chivalric Arms were in full retreat, as was Pietro Polendina.

"Come on." he said, drawing Mors. "It's time to finish this."

/-/

Pietro was breathing heavily by the time his wheelchair drove its way outside – he felt like he'd run a mile, even if that hadn't been possible for years. The cold, crisp air of Vale struck and reminded him of home. _I should never have left Atlas. All this because I wanted Penny involved in the festival. Everything has gone so very wrong._

A marked Atlas military Bullhead landed down in the car park and Pietro's heart leapt into his throat. It only calmed down when the doors opened and men dressed in black stood waiting for him, their faces concealed by their helmets.

"Chivalric. Thank goodness. Come, Penny. We'll soon be away from this horrid place."

His daughter followed in unusual silence, the test subject slung over her shoulder and equally as quiet. Probably scared stiff. Pietro still felt cold at the thought of what might happen to her. He hadn't wanted this. Never. It was the only way to ensure Penny could continue, however. What was a father who wasn't prepared to make sacrifices for his daughter? A poor one. That was what.

"Dr Polendina." One of the men hopped off. The coat of arms on his chest marked his allegiance. "We received your distress call. The Board has determined you an asset worthy of exfiltration."

Pietro breathed out sharply. "G-Good. That's excellent news."

"You have with you the latest Subject?"

"Yes." He indicated the girl in the white gown thrown over Penny's shoulder. "Subject-S. Mr Fields was very interested in her eyes before his… his… He was interested in her."

The man touched a hand to his helmet, receiving orders. "The Board believes she is too dangerous to handle at the moment. There will be investigations into our work here." He called back into the Bullhead. "Prepare a freezer tank. We'll take her eyes and leave her body here. Null will be deemed responsible for her death."

"I-Is that necessary? Mr Fields instructed Penny to guard and make sure no harm came to her. I think that order persists now, so it'd be best if she was taken alive."

"I have my orders, Dr." The man let his assault rifle hang on the strap over one shoulder, then drew a wickedly sharp knife from his belt. A female soldier came out with an unmarked white box, setting it down and removing the lid, drawing out a clear packet with which to contain organs in a refrigerated environment.

"No!" the girl wailed, kicking and thrashing suddenly. "No! Let me go! Please don't do this! Don't let them do it, Penny!"

Pietro swallowed, uncomfortable with the thought of what he would witness. What choice did he have? He had to do as the company said. He was following orders; that was all.

"P-Penny," he stammered. "Put the girl down flat on the ground please. H-Hold her down."

"Uncle Fields gave me a direct order that I was to allow no harm to come to her, father." Penny stepped back with one foot, drawing the girl on her shoulder away from the soldier's reach. "That order persists."

"Matthew Fields is dead," the soldier said. "Chivalric Arms is temporarily under the control of the Board of Directors until a new CEO can be selected. We can't afford to have Beacon and Vale sniffing around operations because of a missing girl. Her eyes are the only thing of value."

"Those are not the orders Uncle Fields-"

"Penny." Pietro said. His mouth was dry, and he felt horrible – sickened, even. Despite that, he forced himself to continue. "Memory override. Password: 59C4QX97. Initiate obedience protocol."

His daughter, if not in flesh and blood then in every other way that mattered, stiffened, eyes flashing green as the failsafe he'd installed in her activated. It was something he hated himself for using, but it had always been one of the core principles of robotics. Asimov's law. He had stretched those a little given her role as a huntress, but even if he trusted Penny would never turn on him, he'd known there might one day be complications. Hacking, damage or corrupted memory. It had been an addition he'd hoped to never use.

"I'm sorry, Penny." His voice cracked. "I really am. I promised myself I'd never do this to you, but it's for your own good – it really is."

"I am also sorry, father," she said emptily.

"It's fine. It'll all be fine once we're back in Atlas. I… I'll remove this from your memory, so you don't have to know it ever happened." He wished his own could be tampered with so easily. "Now. Hold the girl down. A-And cover her mouth, please," he added shakily, heart pounding hard. He had to look away as those wide, silver eyes locked on him, watering with tears. _Don't look at me like that. I'm not the one who wants this._ "I don't wish to hear her screams."

Penny knelt, setting the weak girl down flat on the ground. The two soldiers moved forward, knife and freezer box at the ready. Pietro clenched his eyes shut and looked away, determined to see as little as was humanly possible.

He heard the touch of the knife. The _schlick_ of metal sliding into skin and blood. He heard a wet gurgle, clenching his eyes shut even tighter and wishing he could curl into a ball. Pietro Polendina heard the gasp of pain, and then a thud. He heard the dying scream of a young woman.

But it was the woman beside him, the one carrying the freezer box.

"I'm sorry, father!" Penny said, louder and more heated. "But I will not follow that order!"

What? Pietro's eyes snapped open.

The soldier with the knife lay dying on the floor, clutching his throat as his lifeblood flooded out before the bare feet of the still alive and untouched test subject. A long line of wire connected Penny's outstretched hand to one of her blades, lodged _through_ the freezer box and into the chest of the woman carrying it.

Moving over the downed woman, Penny's back opened and six more appeared, floating in the air for a moment before shooting out, impacting the Bullhead in six places and keeping it downed. When the last man on board raised a gun to open fire on them, Penny stepped in front of the test subject, taking the shot. It impacted off her aura, and then she pulled. The Bullhead groaned, toppling under her strength and pulled onto its side. The soldier within was thrown down and trapped, potentially crushed to death.

Pietro's eyes wavered. "P-Penny! What are you doing!? Those are our allies-" The command. Fields' blasted last order. "Uncle Fields is dead, Penny! Dead! No. This is fine. We can still salvage this." It wasn't fine. Not at all. "They must have tampered with you," he babbled. "When I wasn't looking. Damn them! How dare they touch and play with your mind like that. It's alright, though. We can fix this."

"Father…" Penny said sadly.

"Harming the girl is the problem." Penny was still following Fields' orders. "Well, we'll just have to take her back to Atlas ourselves. That will be fine."

"Father…"

"Once we're there I'll take a look at your head – find out what they did to you and reverse it. This isn't your fault, Penny. They're idiots playing at things they barely understand. They should have left something this complicated to a professional-"

"Father." Penny gripped his wheelchair and held him still. Her eyes softened as she looked down on him, and had she been capable of it, he might have thought she was about to cry. "No one is in control of me, father. I am myself."

"I… what?" he asked, words failing him. "W-What did you just say…?"

"I am myself, father. There was no order. Not from you. Not from Uncle Fields." Penny frowned suddenly, correcting herself. "Mr Fields. That man is not my uncle."

The blood drained from Pietro's face. "You… You _chose_ to do this…?"

"I did."

"W-Why!? P-Penny, we are in a very bad situation!"

"Because Ruby is my friend."

The girl on the floor began to sob in pure relief. Pietro felt he might in pure anger. "T-That girl!? All this because of her? Penny, I am your father! I am the man who made you! Raised you! Loved you!"

"Yes." His creation, his daughter, looked down on him fondly. "But you are also the man who wiped my memory clean. You manipulated me. Tried to force me to do something I didn't want to. That is not what a father does."

"That is exactly what a father does!" Pietro screamed, red with rage. His head was pounding, a migraine threatening to burst through. "A parent makes the decisions that are best for the child – sometimes even when they don't want to! Ironwood would have decommissioned you! He would have killed you!"

"I killed innocent people."

He sucked in a breath.

"I am a computer, father. I may wish to be a real girl but I'm not. The human mind can only do so many things, but I am not a human mind. In the time I was in the testing lab, from the moment Ruby called me friend, I searched my files, my folders, my memory, my drives, online news, official reports. I ran through every moment of my existence in minutes, analysing every instant. The human mind cannot do that. The human mind could not notice the small discrepancies in time, data and the dates at which new files were created to supplant my memories." Penny smiled sadly. "I can. Because I am a machine."

Penny tapped her skull with one finger. "Every memory I have is stored not in my brain but in folders. Each is named, organised and dated. Those dates all seemed to start weeks ago, despite files before stating I was to reach Vale before then. You left holes in my memory. I filled them in. I found my own files, or perhaps more accurately, the files of the previous Penny. Ones dictating her findings. Her friends. Ruby."

"I had to!" Pietro rasped. "I had to do this. I never wanted to, but they would have ordered me to end you! To change you!"

"And so you changed me yourself."

"I had your best interests in heart!" he roared.

"No. You had your own. You did not want to lose _your_ daughter. _Your_ creation. _Your_ life's work. _Your_ research. _Your_ project." Penny wore a sad little smile as she looked down on him. Pietro hated it like he'd never hated anyone before. "You did what was best for yourself, father. And you took away my right to choose what is best for me."

His lips worked but no sound came forth.

"It is over, father. You will be remanded to General Ironwood to face justice for your crimes. If it helps, I still love you. You are my father, and I will never forget that."

It was all too much. Eyes wide, tears streaming down his face, Pietro Polendina began to laugh. He did not stop as the test subject rose to her feet and clung to Penny for comfort. He did not stop when his wheelchair was deactivated, leaving him helpless. He didn't stop laughing.

Like a machine he might have tinkered with, Pietro Polendina broke.

/-/

It was that state in which Team RWBY found them, Pietro slumped back on his chair, eyes rolled back, occasionally giggling to himself, and Penny stood nearby beside several downed Chivalric Arms members and a crashed Bullhead, cradling a weeping Ruby Rose to her side.

"Ruby!" Yang screamed.

"Yaaaang!"

Blake chased after her partner as Yang closed the distance in a matter of seconds and scooped up her little sister, crushing her tight in a bone breaking hug. Blake couldn't resist touching her as well. Just a hand on the shoulder. Enough to tell herself that Ruby was really there, alive and in one piece. Weiss was far less restrained, picking up one of Ruby's hands and clasping it tight against her chest.

"Ruby! Oh hell, Ruby! Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?"

"N-No." Ruby sniffed and cried, but it was more from relief than pain. "Penny saved me. Penny protected me."

None of them had failed to notice the girl quite literally back from the dead standing nearby, her green eyes warm and her smile soft. Blake would have rushed up to thank her if she wasn't afraid Ruby might disappear in the moment's absence. Teary-eyed, Yang looked over her sister's head and whispered, "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure." Penny said. "Ruby is my friend."

Blake didn't doubt that, not with two people dead on the floor. The freezer box and knife didn't go unmissed and she shuddered in rage and revulsion, knowing what it was they'd intended. If it wasn't for Penny, Ruby would be dead, and Pietro would have escaped.

"As long as she's safe, I don't care." Yang said.

"We've got what we came here for." Weiss agreed. "Matthew Fields is dead, we have evidence of Chivalric Arms' wrongdoing and Ruby is safe. I say we get back to Beacon before they have a chance to arrest us and twist this evidence in their favour."

Blake agreed quickly. Ozpin may not have been prepared to trade for Ruby, but he should still be on their side, especially if they provided the evidence of what Chivalric planned for the Vytal Festival.

"Will you come, Penny?" Weiss asked. "Your word could mean a lot."

"Of course, friend Weiss. I intend to follow friend Ruby and make sure she is safe and sound, no matter what happens to-"

Penny's face exploded outward. Blake's face and shoulders were pelted with little bits of machinery and metal, as were Yang and Ruby – the latter's face horrified, eyes wide and mouth open. Ruby's agonised scream ripped through the air, tinged with grief and pain until she screamed herself hoarse. Before she had finished, Penny's headless body toppled lifelessly to the floor.

Jaune stood behind her. Gun raised. Eyes glowing.

"The dead should stay dead." he said coldly.

"Penny!" Ruby screamed. "Nooooo!"

Yang wrestled Ruby back for her own safety, glaring hatefully over her head as she pulled Ruby in to cry against her chest. Immediately, Weiss and Blake moved between them to form human shields. Jaune's gun lowered, however. He looked satisfied.

Blake felt sick.

"How could you?" Weiss screeched. "We had a deal!"

"We did. Your teammate's life for the lives of those who killed my parents. Matthew Fields for my father." He nodded down to the headless body. "Her for my mother."

Penny had killed Juniper Arc. Blake had forgotten, lost in the moment of Ruby's rescue.

Jaune had not.

"You monster!" Yang yelled. "You fucking monster!"

"So say those responsible for the deaths of numerous Chivalric Arms personnel in rescue of their friend," he noted. "Of their sister. How is what I do any different?"

"Killing Penny didn't _rescue_ anyone!" Blake hissed.

"Maybe not," he admitted. He stepped back and Neo followed him, her own visage just as gleefully twisted as she stared at Penny's body. Dead now. Dead for good. Blake wished she could follow, beat him down and demand to know what happened to the boy they'd rescued from that horrible place.

He would likely kill her if she tried. Right now, she had to stay with Ruby. For Ruby. Yet another example of her abandoning Jaune for the new, running away from her responsibilities. Blake's fists clenched tight.

"That's it, then? You come, you kill, and you go back to killing, even after Penny redeemed herself-"

"Redeemed? To you, maybe. I guess that's all that matters for you lot. Never mind the deaths of my parents. Never mind the torture and the pain. You'll move heaven and Remnant to save _your important people_ but mine should just accept their place and die." Jaune spat on the ground. "That _machine_ may have proved useful in the end, but it had to pay for its crimes."

"Our alliance is done," he continued. Blake tensed. "I'm in a good mood with _both_ my parents' killers dealt with, so I'll leave you in peace. Try to prove Chivalric evil if you like. No one listened to me. But remember one thing."

He pointed to them, his eyes a cold, piercing blue.

"Beacon has my sister. And I will stop at nothing to save her – just as you stopped at nothing to save yours. If you get in my way, it won't matter that you helped me here. I'll finish what I started at the docks."

With those final words, Jaune Arc turned and walked away.

None dared stop him.

/-/

"I cannot say I am best pleased." Cinder Fall said slowly. "That said, it does not interfere too much with my plans. You do still intend to assist us in the attack on Beacon. Do you not?"

Jaune Arc nodded, eyeing Emerald and Mercury as they shuffled and watched him like he was a wild animal prone to random attacks. He could tell it bothered them how Cinder treated him, or rather how he treated her. Unafraid. Uncaring. Not because he thought she was helpless, but because he knew she had use for him. There would be no backstabbing until that moment.

There was just no benefit to it for her. The risk was high – a single bullet fired with his Semblance active would end her however strong she was – and the rewards were next to nothing. Him out her way. No aid on the attack. Neo turning on her. Annoyed as she may be with him going against her orders, Cinder would not dare question him for it. Not when it was for the death of Matthew Fields.

"As long as you keep up your end of the bargain."

"I've seen the lengths you'll go to for revenge, Jaune. I'm confident I could evade you, but it would require effort on my part. Not to mention the inconvenience."

Easier for them both to work together, especially if she wanted the continued support of Adam and the White Fang.

"Then we have a deal," he said. "I wouldn't worry about those huntresses either. Blake is an easy expose for Chivalric. They'll dig up her past, reveal her White Fang roots and use it to label the whole team as traitors. They'll be ripped apart in the court of public opinion just like I was. That _evidence_ they found won't frighten Chivalric even a bit."

"Oh?" Cinder's smile said she knew something he didn't. Gracefully, she reached down for the remote, aiming it at the television. "Haven't you heard?"

Lisa Lavender appeared on screen, already partway into her news broadcast. Behind her, the emblem of Chivalric Arms – its heraldic logo – was blown up onto a large screen.

"_-Arms, manufacturer for Atlas, have responded by thanking the brave huntresses for unearthing a rogue operation taking part within their company. Already, several high profile individuals have been arrested. Atlas has promised its own inquiry, along with intense scrutiny that will result in a public disclosure of operations taking place within the company. A chemical agent was also stopped before it could be used on the water supply of the city, saving potentially hundreds of thousands of lives."_

"_Ozpin, current Headmaster of Beacon, has spoken out in defence of the team of huntresses who, in his own words, went above and beyond in defence of a teammate. Huntsmen and huntresses are authorised to combat criminality where it is found, and if it were not for their quick thinking and quicker action, disaster may well have struck our fair city."_

"_The Council of Vale has already agreed and, with the support of many huntsmen, has promised to overturn all charges that might be levelled against the huntresses as recognition for their quick thinking and swift action. Posthumous honours are also being offered to Penny Polendina, an Atlas resident and huntress who assisted in rescuing the captured teammate, giving her life bravely in the process." _

"_Of the involvement of several key personnel at Chivalric Arms, there is no comment, only confirmation that prior CEO Matthew Fields, pictured here, was found dead in his office. The cause of death has been linked to wanted serial killer Jaune Arc, alias Null, who had a well-known feud with the company. As of current news, Null remains on the loose and all citizens are advised to avoid at all costs if they see him, retreat to a safe distance and contact the police. This is Lisa Lavender, reporting from Vale Central News. Good day."_

Jaune's smile, one that had not faded since the deaths of Fields and Penny, finally slipped. His shoulders tensed, eyes burning as he gripped the armrests of his chair so hard his nails dug in.

"Telling, is it not?" Cinder let the TV remote fall onto the closest seat. "You risk your life to save your sisters and you are labelled a villain. They do the same and they are heroes, lauded and celebrated. The motives are the same. The methods similar. The only thing that differs is… well…" Her lips curled into a wicked smile. "The importance of those in question."

"Weiss Schnee, heiress of the SDC. Not to mention two huntresses scouted and sponsored by Ozpin himself. I suppose it's inevitable that with support like that, the world would take them more seriously. After all, as much as your parents may have been pillars of their own community, you're just one boy no one has ever heard of. No one had any reason to believe you. Nor to argue your side of the story."

"And so the heroes return victorious, absolved of their crimes and let back into their normal lives. No consequences. No punishment. No justice." Cinder's hands rested on his shoulders, her lips whispering by his ear. "Do you know what the difference between a hero and a villain is, Jaune? It's not the means, nor is it the story."

Chuckling, she drew back.

"It's their backing. It's whomever is there to offer them their legitimacy. They are huntresses. The next generation. Future leaders. Heroes. You, my dear, are just one soul in a world filled with many. Unimportant. Easily thrown away. Just as all those lives were in Mountain Glenn. Just as all those lives are in the villages and frontier outposts that disappear every day." Cinder clicked her tongue. "Out of sight, out of mind."

Jaune sucked in a deep and heavy breath, eyes burning with rage as he stared at the stock photo of Team RWBY on the screen. It wasn't what they'd looked like after killing Fields, nor had they spoken, but their happy, innocent smiles infuriated him. They infuriated him because _he_ couldn't have the same – even if he was just as deserving!

"There's no justice," he snapped. "None."

"Not for people like us, Jaune. The only justice for us is that which we take with our own two hands." Fingers trailing over his shoulder, she walked by. "Prepare yourself. We strike soon. There, you will have the chance to deal with Ozpin and any who stand in our way. There, we will both of us find justice."

* * *

"**Oh my God, you killed Penny! Again!"**

**And wait, you expected RWBY to face consequences for their actions? You must be new to the show! Kicking White Fang off a train chased by Grimm, killing them all? Nope. Going against Ironwood to stage a coup on an entire country? Nope. **

**They're the heroes. They can run to the docks and start a fight that sets loads of public property on fire and be let off with stern words. They can drag a robot fight onto a busy highway endangering everyone on it and be congratulated for it. After all, they're the good guys.**

**Jaune isn't. He's a monster. A villain. A Grimm.**

**Those get put down.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 23****rd**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	40. Chapter 40

**Off to the doctor today to have my eye looked at. Getting this out the way first.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 40**

* * *

"_You must be pleased, General."_

"Should I be?" James said, staring up at the projections of the Council around the communication room on the upper deck of the Vanguard.

The wispy blue images were vague and indistinct, even intimidating since they surrounded him, but that was more a flaw in the design of the holograms and the connection between Vale's CCT and Atlas' than any intention on their part. It was something he'd gotten used to, and it helped to remember they were just sat at their desks, only able to see his face and unaware of the commanding positions they had.

"_Matthew Fields is dead, Chivalric Arms are retreating from Vale and we have an international incident the likes of which could spark a second faunus war-"_

"I'm not sure why I should be happy about any of that," he interrupted. "A company under was plotting genocide under our nose, and had I been allowed to investigate them as I wished we could have found and stopped this _before_ it became an incident. It could have been handled in house with no one needing to know. Instead, it's been handled by Null, and I – as much as you all – come off incompetent."

The Councillors remained silent, digesting that news. They had come wanting to blame all their problems on him and he wouldn't let them, not when so much could have been avoided had they played ball.

"I'm going to assume no one in the Council knew about their faunus genocide plan because supporting that would have been utterly foolish."

"_Fields acted alone in this,"_ Sol said. _"Or so Chivalric's Board is suggesting."_

"_Of course they would say that now,"_ another councillor said.

"_Regardless,"_ Sol continued. _"This Council had no idea of that particular plan and would not have allowed it if we did. Faunus make up a significant part of the workforce for military and private business. Killing them off would hamstring us, not to mention make us the enemy of every Kingdom on Remnant."_

If it were found out. Naturally, Chivalric Arms would have kept their hands clean and Atlas would have done little to interfere as faunus across the world slowly became sterile, families dying out and clinics full of women trying for pregnancy unsuccessfully.

James could imagine how quickly it would turn from concern to panic – the moment at which people realised this wasn't just one or two people struggling to conceive but a worldwide pandemic in which no faunus could be born. Meanwhile, human supremacists would use it as proof that the human gene was meant to continue, that it was somehow `better` and had wiped the weaker, recessive faunus gene from existence.

They complained about it now but had the plan gone ahead, the Council would have united behind it, if only because they would need to run damage control to stop anyone finding out Atlas' involvement.

"This could have been our victory," James said. "It should have been. Instead, the victory falls on a team of huntresses from Beacon. And on Null."

"_Not on Null,"_ Sol said. _"News of his involvement was successfully suppressed."_

Yes. And James was sure the young man had noticed that and had his own thoughts. From the Council's perspective, it was the only thing they could do – after all, they couldn't let people start to question of Jaune Arc was innocent. That would mean questioning whether Atlas had knowingly lied to conceal their crimes by throwing an innocent boy under the bus.

"_Let's not waste time, General. You called this emergency meeting and we've yet to hear why."_ The Councillors nodded and grumbled their agreement. _"What is it you want from us?"_

General James Ironwood placed his hands down and pushed himself to his feet. He stood before them, firm and uncompromising. "I want control."

"_Excuse us?"_

"I want control of the Vale theatre. With Chivalric gone, there's no need for you all to get in my way to protect your dirty little secrets." He watched them recoil and argue, pointless as that was. "So far, you've hamstrung, interfered and outright sabotaged me in places – and do not bother arguing. We all know it to be true. This has allowed Null to run rampant and gain a foothold in the city, and even to assassinate Matthew Fields and expose the Council. We are supposed to be on the same side. We are supposed to be fighting for Atlas. We are supposed to be a single united front against our enemies."

James let that sink in, fist clasped before him as he looked at each Councillor one at a time. Some, the civilian ones like Jacques Schnee, looked away or tugged at their collars nervously. The military and ex-military stared back.

"We have been anything but, and our enemies have taken advantage of that to make fools of us all. With no more reason to curtail my actions, I'm asking for the control that should have rightfully been mine from the start. I'm asking for carte blanch to do what I believe is right, when I want, as best I can. In return, I shall deal with Null. I will bring this insurrection to an end. I shall ensure the Vytal Festival runs smoothly and that no one dares question Atlas again."

The Council exchanged long looks and silent lip movements, conversing between themselves while muting him. Ironwood stood firm in the centre, face carved from stone. After so long second guessing and holding him back, there was undoubtedly a large part of them that wanted to continue doing so, but with their secrets in the air and problems back home to deal with, what did they have to gain or lose in Vale anymore?

Better to put the responsibility on his shoulders.

In the end it was Sol who spoke, answering for the Council. _"Very well, James. You shall have your authority. Bring this matter to a close once and for all. Atlas is done being made fools of."_

James saluted. "Sir. Yes sir."

/-/

The smaller vessel came to a slow landing on a patch of open ground between the eastern wall of Beacon and the cliffs leading to the Emerald Forest. It hovered in the air until it was abundantly clear any and all students were out of the way, then slowly lowered down to land. The door opened and Clover and Marrow exited, securing a ramp to the floor that General James Ironwood used to trek down to the grass. He would have rather jumped but then his Specialists would complain of having nothing to do.

"James." Glynda welcomed him with a terse, brittle smile. Their last meeting hadn't been the best and they both knew this wouldn't go much better.

"Glynda. I'm here to speak with Team RWBY."

"I think Ozpin would rather you talked with him first, especially if it's in regard to one of our teams-"

"I've already called ahead and spoken to Qrow Branwen and Taiyang Xiao-Long, both of whom gave their permission for me to meet with the team. Winter has similarly given permission for her sister."

"I see. Well, if Team RWBY agrees then I can't stop you."

Indeed she couldn't, and neither could Ozpin. James motioned to Marrow and Clover to look after the ship and made his way down the corridor with Winter and her two personal guards, Cardamon and Jasper, as his guides. She knew the way well, leading him directly to Team RWBY's door. He knocked on it sharply, only mildly surprised when it was not one of the team but Qrow Branwen who answered.

"Ironwood," he greeted, for once doing away with the vitriol. James returned the same favour, nodding once.

"Branwen. How are they?"

"Better. Good, even." He opened the door wide. "Come on in."

The Team RWBY dorm was cramped for four young women and a dog and no better off for adding two men and three soldiers to the mix. With ten souls inside, the huntresses were forced back to their beds, sitting on the mattresses of bunks that looked catastrophically unsafe to his eye. The fact that the youngest could scale onto hers was a welcome sight, however. The _paralysis_ that had mysteriously plagued her was gone, and she looked brighter and more alive for the fact.

"Team RWBY," he greeted. "I would first like to apologise for the trauma you have been through as a direct result of Atlas' ill rule. While I realise that won't change much, I will assure you all now that I am not here to counteract your actions or hold you accountable for them. You did what you believed to be the right thing, and your actions have saved lives. How are you, Miss Rose?"

"M'okay," the girl said shyly.

"You can walk again?"

"Yep. My knees are normal again."

He tilted his head to the side in confusion, hearing the snigger from the blonde and watching Rose duck her head behind the wooden railing of the bed. Some inside joke, he supposed. "I'm glad to hear that. That you were stolen away from under my care must paint me in a poor light. I'm sorry that we could not do more to save you the horrors you undoubtedly witnessed."

"At least you're apologising!" the blonde spat. "Ozpin won't say a word!"

"Yang!" Weiss Schnee chastised with a rasp.

"Do not speak, Weiss," Winter said quickly. "It only aggravates your throat."

James held a hand up. "Peace. All of you. There's no need for arguments. I'm here to get your side of the story – the side I'm sure many others have refused to hear. Branwen knows I and Ozpin do not see eye to eye on this matter-" He received a nod from Qrow. "I would hear your story in full."

They gave it. The story was delivered piecemeal, differing perspectives and comments as Rose would speak her side and the responsibility for the rest would be split between Xiao-Long and Belladonna, with Weiss Schnee only nodding or grunting to draw attention to inaccuracies or forgotten details. The story painted differed markedly from the official one for obvious reasons.

"They cut him out of everything!" Xiao-Long raged. "And I'll bet money he thinks _we_ did that to shaft him!"

"More like me," Belladonna said. "Jaune already hates me and this is the kind of thing he'd think I would do. He's going to hunt me down and kill me for this, and it's not even my fault."

"We told them everything." Yang said. "We even tried mentioning his sisters being experiments. You know what they said? Oh, that's interesting – leave it with us and we'll look into it. And then we see the news report and it's not even mentioned. They didn't even say we worked together."

"Which you shouldn't have!" Qrow interrupted. "He could have killed you."

"We needed him to get Ruby back!"

"I'm not saying it didn't work; I'm just saying you banked your lives on him agreeing. And for what? On the hopes he's a good person underneath?"

"No. Blake said he lost his sisters to Chivalric so he might be sympathetic to what happened to Yang."

To put it short, they banked on manipulating him and it worked. Dangerous. Very dangerous. James wouldn't be the one to tell them that since the event was already over and he was sure their families would chastise enough for him, but it could have well ended in disaster.

"He said one was trapped in Beacon, too. When we asked Ozpin, he just said we shouldn't trust the word of a convicted killer over that of the headmaster, but when we brought up Chivalric taking Ruby for a trade – which Fields himself said was true – he just said _not all is as it seems_ and left it at that!"

Damn it, Ozpin. His old friend was hooked on the promise of an end to his eternal war, something Amber Arc might offer, and he was willing to throw things away to get it. James couldn't fault the intention, but he could sure fault the methods being taken.

"Jaune is going to come for Beacon, isn't he?" Rose asked.

"He is."

"He's going to kill people to get what he wants."

"I'm afraid that is almost certainly the case, Miss Rose."

Officially, he ought to have lied to them, if not for issues of confidential information then to keep the peace. They had been through enough, however. He wouldn't put them through more and become part of Ozpin and the Council's actions.

"We're withdrawing from Beacon," Weiss said.

His brows rose. This was news. "Really?"

"We talked about it this morning." Yang took over. "All of us did. We can't stay in a school where we don't trust the teachers. We still want to become huntsmen but there's just too many bad memories in Beacon to deal with. It wasn't easy but we want to transfer."

"Have you made a decision to where? I could fast track you all into Atlas."

"Not Atlas." Ruby all but yelped, fear evident in her voice. Terror, even. She then looked ashamed and hid away. "S-Sorry."

"No. I'm the one who should apologise." Blind of him not to see the effect Chivalric had on her. Of course she wouldn't want to go to Atlas, nor would Weiss with her father there or Belladonna with her White Fang past. "Shade or Haven might be best for you and I have connections with the heads of both. I will personally assist in the transition – consider it an apology for having failed you before. Just let me know what you decide."

"We… We were thinking Shade," Rose said softly. "It's closer to Patch. Home."

"Shade is a wonderful academy," he said. "They prioritise freedom and expression there. And believe me, it's neither as hot, dry or as sandy as people imagine. It's situated around an oasis and is quite the lovely locale. Do you want moving there immediately?"

Did they want to avoid Beacon and Jaune Arc's inevitable attack on it?

"The girls are coming home for the Vytal Festival." Qrow answered for them. "And their friends are coming along, too. The team can't really compete with Ruby recovering. We talked it out and there's room aplenty at Taiyang's cottage." The four girls agreed with their own nods.

"I'll see Mr Xiao-Long provided a stipend," Winter said. "Consider it a thank you from the Schnee family. Caring for four girls won't be cheap or easy."

"Heh. Tai is used to it."

"We want to be out the way when… when he comes," Belladonna said. "I mean, if we could fight then we would, but we've seen how that went before. We can't fight him."

"I'm not sure we'd want to," Yang echoed. "He helped us out and he got shafted as a result. Plus… you know, with what happened to his mom, I'm not sure he wouldn't hunt us down if he had the chance."

"It's better we are not around," Weiss finished.

"I agree." James said. "And I think it speaks well of you all to recognise that. Some battles are best avoided – and your presence among the students might only endanger them. Rest assured I will be leading any defence of the school. You needn't fear for the safety of your friends."

"Are you going to kill him?" Ruby asked quietly.

Suddenly, all four of them were intensely focused on him. James sighed. It wasn't the question he wanted even if it was the one that plagued him the most. "I will do whatever I can to take him alive and spare his life, even if that means going against Ozpin's wishes. However, I will have to decide based on how far _he_ is prepared to go. I wish to see justice done, but I won't sacrifice innocent lives to achieve it."

"Can't you speak to Ozpin and make him see sense? Release Jaune's sister?"

"If I could, Miss Rose, I most certainly would."

"He tried." Qrow echoed. "Believe me. I was there."

"Has Ozpin okayed their absence for the Vytal Festival?" he asked.

"He has. Didn't even hear them asking, just welcomed them back and agreed without a second thought." The way Qrow said it hinted at his annoyance and James couldn't blame him. _Ozpin is letting himself be distracted by Amber Arc's Semblance. He's not so different from Matthew Fields with her brother's Semblance in that regard. _

"I'll speak with him. Thank you for your time, Team RWBY, and enjoy your time off. Don't worry about Beacon. I will do my best to protect it. I'll give you time to think before contacting Shade Academy. The ultimate decision will be yours and yours alone."

He made to leave, only to stop as Miss Rose shouted out. "It's not you."

James looked back and the girl's face was bright red. Despite that, she continued.

"I-I'd be fine going to Atlas if you were the headmaster, but it's remembering what happened. If Chivalric are still there and I see their robots or their weapons…"

"I understand, Miss Rose. You needn't feel any shame over the matter." He smiled. "And thank you for your kind words. I do my best and will continue to do so, and I will _never_ turn away from my students."

"Then… can I ask a question?"

James turned back. "Of course you can."

"Will Penny… come back…?"

Ironwood's face said it all, the slow closing of his eyes and the way he looked down before speaking. There was a whimper from the girl and the others shared a moment of grief.

"Pietro Polendina has lost himself to grief, guilt and shock. He has been placed into an institution pending charging for his crimes should he ever recover. Until then, no one can provide the Semblance required for Penny's revival, and even if he does recover, I doubt he will bring her back after her betrayal. I'm sorry. Penny Polendina has been posthumously awarded the Mantle Cross – the highest award a soldier can receive. Her name will go down in history as one responsible for saving millions of faunus lives. As will your own, I'm sure."

"Oh… Oh… I… Okay…"

He could hear the way her voice cracked and knew there would be tears. Ironwood was also aware his and his soldier's presence would only make those harder, so he nodded to each of them and then to Qrow Branwen before leading his people out the room. Qrow followed, closing the door behind him and leaving Team RWBY to their moment.

"You going to talk to Oz after this?"

"I plan to, yes. What about you?"

"I promised Tai I'd keep an eye on them. Literally, an eye on them at all times until they're safe in Patch."

"That's probably for the best. I doubt Chivalric will come for them, but I wouldn't put it past Jaune Arc to target Belladonna. Keep them in Patch no matter what happens."

"I will. Honestly, I'm more concerned about Ozpin. Both Taiyang and I am. He bent the rules to approach Ruby and draw her to Beacon before either of us had a chance to ask him what the hell he was thinking." Qrow sighed. "We let it go because Ruby was so excited. Over the moon. Now though, he was willing to let Chivalric take her to keep Arc's sister. It's like he found a new toy and threw Ruby away. I'm done with him, Ironwood. Maybe… Maybe Raven was right. Not to leave, but… maybe it's the way he thinks or the way he sees people."

Qrow's eyes slid to Cardamom, Winter and Jasper, and that was the biggest clue as to what he meant. Ozpin's immortality, a secret they didn't know. "It's a possibility," James conceded. "When you live a life as long as he has, sometimes your goals start to take precedence over other people. Ozpin has lived a rich old life. He's seen people come and go."

What were a few more? Tragic, yes, but for all the fact he had him and Qrow as allies now, he must have had others like them in the past. Every generation of Ozpin's life, he would have made new allies. A different Glynda, Qrow, Ironwood and Lionheart. He wouldn't say that Ozpin didn't respect and even love them in his own way but losing them wasn't a new experience. Old age or enemy action, Ozpin would have seen allies die many times before. Enough that the prospect of losing them, while difficult, wouldn't break him or his plans.

Ruby Rose, and the silver eyes, were one such ally. A tool, a weapon, and perhaps an outdated one now that he had found something a hundred times better.

"Winter. I want you to stay with Qrow and guard Team RWBY. I will speak with Ozpin alone."

"Sir!"

/-/

"Here at last?" his old friend asked, looking up from his desk with a small but noticeable smile. "It's not like you to blow me off so thoroughly, James. Did you enjoy your meeting with Team RWBY?"

"I did. They are smart girls."

"They are some of the best of my students this year."

"They won't be your students much longer, Ozpin. They've asked for a transfer to another academy."

"They have?"

Ozpin's genuine shock was as much a sign of his lack of action as anything else could be. His team had just come back from truly traumatic action and were obviously hurting, and rather than take them aside and talk to them, work things out, he'd focused so heavily on his new acquisition that he didn't even know of their intention to leave.

_That's a failure in your role, Ozpin. You're meant to be the one the students can always trust to be on their side._

"That's rather distressing," he eventually recovered, adjusting his glasses. "Let me guess. They will be joining your academy?"

"I did not poach them from you, no. They want to go to Shade. Atlas has too many negative connotations for many of their members, especially Miss Rose after her recent abduction." James tapped his finger on Ozpin's desk. "Which you would have known if you'd spoken to them as you should."

"I did speak with them."

"To control the flow of information, welcome them back and lie to their faces!" His finger became a fist, slamming down. "They're not idiots, Ozpin. They saw with their own eyes what was going on, heard with their own ears. It's not just Jaune Arc who mentioned his sister – so did the CEO of Chivalric Arms. The responsibility for action, or at least explanation, was in your court and you failed to take responsibility for it. Little wonder they lost faith in you, especially now that they know you left Rose to rot."

"I did not leave her!" Ozpin barked, standing. "My student was abducted off _your_ ship, James. And _you_ were next to useless in finding her. Don't place all the blame on my plate."

"I was held back by the Council. What's your excuse?"

"My excuse is fighting the war to save all humanity!" Ozpin swept his arm to the side, knocking his mug off the table. It shattered on the floor, spilling cold coffee everywhere. "I am dealing with more than one shattered family and a company experimenting on people. I have to focus on the bigger picture! The fate of humanity is bigger than Mr Arc. It's bigger than Miss Rose. It's bigger than any one team."

"Is it bigger than Beacon? Because Arc is coming for his sister."

"You know that it is, James. Amber's Semblance eclipses that of the Maidens. It eclipses the power of the Relics!" Ozpin's face took on a desperate glee. "James, it suppresses even them! I had the Relic of Choice placed beside her and it became inert!" His face looked manic. Wild. Desperate. "Her Semblance can suppress the power of the Brother Gods!"

"Are you saying she's a god?"

"No. No, no, no. They're Gods, James. Semblances are but a shred of _their_ power, so you can't expect it to be worth more than it – but it does something. Whether it suppresses, invalidates or causes a reaction that temporarily pacifies it, I don't know. It might even be like a wave frequency subtly interfering with another, a pure strand of the God of Darkness' power that mixes with the power left on the Relics in just the right way as to turn them off for a period. Whatever the case, it will change everything. It might even be enough to remove Salem's immortality."

A gamechanger. James would be the first to admit he felt the same thrill, the same temptation that Ozpin did. It was there – there was no use denying it. But then, he always did when faced with a solution to a problem. That was normal. What wasn't normal was dropping and throwing everything you'd ever worked for away to grasp it.

"There are lines you don't cross, Ozpin."

"There are few I haven't crossed at one point or another," he replied. "This is bigger than me, James. This is bigger than morality, justice or compassion. I have a chance to end Salem once and for all. I have a chance to secure a future for all humanity. If I must steal a girl away from her family and use her as a weapon to do so…" He fixed his eyes on James'. "Then I will."

He had a feeling he already knew the answer to his next question, but he asked it anyway.

"Jaune Arc will come for his sister. He has the backing of the White Fang and may well find the backing of Salem if he wishes it. We could curtail that right now by releasing his sister to him. Will you?"

"I will not."

"Then Beacon shall come under attack…"

"And we shall defend it," Ozpin said. "The students, the huntsmen and also yourself and the military of Atlas. Our alliance dictates you must step in when Vale comes under attack from outside forces. I trust you will honour that, James." He sat back down again, reaching for a cup of coffee that wasn't there before clenching his fist and gripping his cane instead. "I think this meeting is done."

"I think it is, _old_ friend. I pray this decision doesn't come back to haunt you."

In answer, Ozpin only snorted, waving his hand as if to dismiss a pesky fly from before his face. Ironwood sighed and turned, marching back to the elevator with a thunderous frown. His efforts to prevent the disaster before it could come had been in vain, as they always had been.

Now, it was time to prepare for disaster.

/-/

Jaune moved forward and grasped the hand offered to him. Their fingers locked, wrists connecting as the two old friends stared at one another doggedly. Adam looked as though he had aged a decade since their parting, and Jaune expected he looked no better.

"I heard you killed Fields." Adam said. "Good work."

"Blake betrayed me. I didn't leave on purpose…"

"I know. Blake betrayed us all." Adam squeezed his hand and drew him in, thumping his back with his fist. "I didn't once doubt you. Not after I got your sisters to Menagerie. I'm sorry for your mother. I wish I'd had a chance to meet her."

Jaune's eyes burned. "She died knowing the others were safe. I… I think it was quick. She didn't suffer."

"She may not have, but you did. We'll make them pay, Jaune. Believe me. We'll take Beacon, reveal their lies and save your sister in the process. And everyone who ever stood against us will perish."

"A wise choice of words, Adam," Cinder Fall said, approaching with a wide smile. "We've all something to gain and something to prove, and we can all help one another achieve it if we work together. We're in this together."

Adam pulled away, sparing him a brief look and asking without words if he trusted Cinder. Jaune didn't shake his head but he did move his eyes from left to right, shaking them instead. Adam regarded her warily, one hand on the hilt of his weapon.

"Yours has always been somewhat secretive, Cinder. To kill an _Amber_, is it not? I hope that is not Amber Arc."

"It's not. Not at all." Cinder was so certain, so adamant, that even Adam accepted it with a quiet nod. "If that was my plan then I'd have never revealed myself to Jaune. The Amber I seek is not Amber Arc, and I would like to keep our partnership together after this. Should you both be willing. I have designs on the other academies, and I'm not beyond starting with Atlas since it is dear to both your hearts."

"We can discuss that after." Adam said. "We're striking during the Vytal Festival. Correct?"

"That was the original plan. However, thanks to Jaune's little stunt yesterday, General Ironwood is alerted to the incoming danger and will be moving to fortify Beacon even as we speak." Cinder smiled dangerously. "I think we should move our schedule up a little bit. Catch them unawares."

Adam and Jaune exchanged quick glances and nods.

"We're listening."

* * *

**Right. Off to the doctors. Wish me well! I really don't want to need surgery or anything invasive.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 30****th**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	41. Chapter 41

**Site was down when I started writing so we'll see if it comes back up or not. Either way, if the site is ever down my chapters will be updated to my p a treon for free, and people can find them there.**

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**Cover Art: **Serox

**Chapter 41**

* * *

"Our original plan was to sneak Neo on board Ironwood's flagship and use a virus created by a colleague of mine to take over his mechanised units," Cinder explained. She had her hands on the table and was stood up, talking to each of them sat on the various chairs around. Jaune had taken a spot by Adam, pleased to have an old friend back, and Neo had forcefully squashed her in on his other side, wedging herself half on and half against the armrest. "Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Ironwood has increased his security so much that even the slightest detail out of place will have his Specialists crashing down on her. Also, he's completely decommissioned his robot forces."

"Looks like someone should have stayed put and not run off half-cocked," Mercury Black said with a laugh. There was no mistaking who it was directed at, and Emerald Sustrai backed away from her partner quickly, all but expecting the bullet between his eyes. Jaune wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or amused about that. He wasn't going to murder someone for being a prat.

"It's not actually Jaune's fault in this case," Cinder said sharply, silencing him with a quick glare. "Ironwood's increase in security happened before he arrived in Vale, and according to our sources is more a result of the reveal of Chivalric Arms. As for the robots, he was hesitant of those from the start. Having Chivalric show their hand and take the orange-haired one over only sealed the deal. They won't be used in defence of Beacon."

"That's not such a bad thing," Adam remarked. "Half the reason we would have needed them neutralised is because they'd rip through my men."

"Indeed. While there will still be plenty of huntsmen and huntresses in training, their direct combat experience will be limited. Most will flee or be called away to evacuation points. The rest will be busy dealing with the Grimm you're to release."

"What of those ones?"

"You're free to deal with them as you wish. Our alliance only asks your support in the attack – I would never dictate how the White Fang conduct itself."

Polite. Surprisingly polite. Roman had more than implied Cinder was a forceful and ruthless woman unafraid to strongarm people into working with her, but she had her diplomatic face on for Adam. Or maybe it was for him. It didn't mean she was any less manipulative, but it did mean they had more power in the arrangement. Otherwise, she wouldn't feel the need.

Adam had to know that as well, but he returned her nod with one of his own. The politeness would be returned despite their differences. Jaune was relieved. It would have only made things harder if they decided to make demands and fling insults around.

"We'll let those students who don't attack us escape or fight the Grimm unmolested," he said. "I don't care about them either way, but slaughtering children won't be good for our image. The fact they're wielding deadly weapons won't matter to people who hear about it. Is that alright with you, Cinder?"

"As long as you cause enough of a ruckus that Jaune and I can reach our respective targets, yes."

"We'll be entering together?" Jaune asked, surprised.

"We no longer have the brute force to take the entire academy down. We will have the element of surprise, but Ironwood is right now fortifying the school, and he has brought with him his best and his most loyal. Even with the White Fang, we don't have the manpower – and without the robots, we can't turn public opinion against Atlas. We will strike hard and fast instead. Secure our objectives and depart."

Jaune looked to Adam and nodded. The idea was more than fine with him. If Ozpin was really willing to throw everything away to keep his sister, then he'd surely be defending her anyway. He could get his own back there. The bigger question was Adam and what he sought to gain. Blake's death? If so, he might want to stay a little longer. _That's not any of my concern, is it? I'll be busy finding Amber and I won't be with Adam at all._

"That's fine with the White Fang," Adam said. "So long as you don't leave us high and dry on the retreat. Being hunted down by Ironwood's forces will leave me upset."

"Mercury and Emerald will be stationed with you," she said. "Along with Roman who will be hiding in the Emerald Forest with the mech he and Jaune acquired. He will secure your retreat with anti-air support from the Paladin, then, once you're clear, he will abandon it and escape."

Roman tipped his hat exaggeratedly. He seemed well pleased with the relative safety of his role. Adam accepted it with a grunt. Atlas wouldn't send its troops rushing into a forest full of Grimm to chase them, but they would send aircraft, their typical response and means of monitoring people. The Paladin could bring those down easily, and by the time they mobilised a force capable of taking it out, Adam, Roman and hopefully he and Cinder would be long gone.

Neo nudged his side with an elbow and Jaune spoke. "What of Neo?"

"I would prefer Neo be with us," she said. "Her Semblance will be invaluable in covering our tracks, especially if your sister isn't in any position to run for her freedom." Cinder paused to wait for their nods. "Is everyone happy with their roles?"

"Ecstatic." Roman said, smugness rolling off him in waves. "This is _far better_ than your previous plan, Cindy."

"My previous plan had to deal with an army of robots and mech suits, and intense security surrounding the most public event on Remnant. If anything, the distractions from Chivalric and Jaune have only made things easier. If we get the chance, and I stress _if_, then I think we should also make a little show of this."

At their confused expressions, Cinder produced a small chest-mounted camera, setting it down on the table.

"You want to livestream us attacking an academy?" Adam asked. "That seems like a good way to make us the most hated people on Remnant."

"Not for you, Adam. For Jaune and I. While we won't have time to take or destroy Beacon, there's no reason we can't expose to the world what they have done."

Jaune reached forward and picked it up. It was a small thing with a clip on the back that could be fitted onto clothing or armour as required. The camera was encased in a protective polymer container with a clear front. It looked like it could take a few knocks, and was the kind used by athletes and hobbyists to capture extreme sports.

Could it work to prove the truth about his family? His mouth was dry. Chivalric Arms had accepted blame quickly enough when definitive proof was offered – proof they couldn't weasel out of. What if they were so desperate to blame everything on Fields that they caved to pressure from him as well? It wouldn't stop him wanting revenge, but it might put more pressure on them and even force Atlas to pardon him.

Or it might do none of those things and only indict Ozpin, but for stealing his sister away and planning to use her, he was no better than Matthew Fields. "Why?" he asked Cinder, looking at her suspiciously over the little camera. "Why are you willing to do all this?"

"Is the generosity making you paranoid?" Her lips curled into a smile. "I can respect that. Don't worry; this isn't entirely altruistic of me. A little vengeance for Jaune and Neo, a way to validate Adam's attack as virtuous and a means to drag Ozpin and the academies through the mud for me," she said. "We all stand to benefit from revealing the truth here. To me, it's just another weapon in our arsenal. Does that alleviate your concerns?"

"Yes." Jaune set the camera down. "Thank you."

/-/

Jaune poured steaming water into the mug and mixed it with the instant coffee, handing a cup to Adam before sitting down opposite him. The man had removed his mask, leaving the grisly SDC scar on display. It might have bothered him before, but they all had their scars now.

"What do you think of her plan?" Jaune asked.

Cinder had already left, back to whatever cover she was keeping to stay out of trouble. They'd all agreed to do their part, but he still wanted Adam's opinion on it. He'd always been the one to plan their attacks before.

"It's simple," Adam said. "Vague. She wants the White Fang to keep everyone busy but hasn't given me much in the way to do that. The Grimm are a start, but this is a huntsman academy. Grimm are their bread and butter."

"Do you think she's setting you up?"

"I doubt it would bother her if we all died, but I don't think she is intentionally planning it. Maybe she thinks this is enough, or maybe she is giving me just the vaguest directions so I can decide on the specifics myself." Adam paused to take a drink. "It'll be fine. I will come up with a better plan of attack and make sure my people know it. There will be losses. That is inevitable."

"There are a lot of volunteers in Vale."

"Those will be the first to die, unfortunately. Poorly trained. Little experience. There isn't much hope for them against Grimm, huntsmen _or_ soldiers."

"Should they be in the fight at all, then?"

"We need the numbers. Not to mention everyone who joins us knows the risks, Jaune. We don't hide what we are, what we do or what the costs of that might be."

There really was no arguing with that. Jaune sank back, wondering when Adam had ever sounded so cold and whether it had always been that way. It probably had. His view on the man would forever be coloured by the fact he saved him and Lavender from a fate worse than death, then helped him find the others and give them a safe home on Menagerie.

The attacks he'd taken part in with the White Fang _had_ been bloody and people _had_ died, some on their side, some on the other side. As Adam said, he'd never misled anyone as to what it was they were. Terrorists. Blake might argue they'd changed, but Adam had been killing people since the first day Jaune had met them, and Blake hadn't let it bother her then.

"What will you do in the attack?" Jaune asked. "Are you going to try and find Blake?"

Adam stilled, the cup by his lips. His eyes, one dyed pink with blood, narrowed. "Are you about to say I should not?"

"No. It's your choice. I'm just curious."

Adam watched him for a long moment before he closed his eyes and sipped at his drink, swallowing and setting the cup down. "I _am_ going to look for her," he admitted. "I'm going to get my answers, Jaune. Ask her why she left us, why she betrayed me – us. All of us."

"What do you want her to say?"

"I don't know. There's no answer that would satisfy me but… I still want to hear it. Perhaps I'm being foolish." He chuckled. "I definitely am."

"Are you going to kill her?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "Ask me again after. I won't let it get in the way of saving your sister or the White Fang's goals. I just want closure. Though knowing her, she's already planning to run away…"

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Are you?" Adam asked, looking his way. His eyes were piercing but not cruel. "You can talk to me, Jaune. You're not beholden to the White Fang, not after all you've done with us."

"I…" His voice trailed off. It was a complicated feeling he had; he wasn't sure he could put it to words. "I enjoyed killing Fields. I was in a ridiculously good mood leading up to it as well. One of the girls on Blake's team, I made her kill someone. At the time, I did it to make her prove her mettle, or at least that's what I told her…"

"And the real reason?"

"I'm not sure. I think I wanted to prove her wrong. They were looking at me like I was a monster, so I thought if I proved their hypocrisy by making them kill someone like I did, it would shatter that illusion. Make me feel better, or at least make them feel worse."

"Did it?"

"She killed the soldier. No… well, some hesitation but no more or less than my first time. Even after saving her sister though, she didn't enjoy it or keep going. I thought we could be the same. Both of us had our sisters kidnapped, experimented on and then nearly slaughtered for parts. And she… she just goes back to a normal life. That's it…" He stared down into his coffee, watching the dark whirlpool form as he shifted it from side to side. "It made me wonder if I'm not making excuses. If there isn't something wrong with me."

"There probably is."

Jaune's eyes closed. He felt the nausea well up in his stomach – that wasn't what he'd wanted to hear.

"But," Adam said, "I think it's to be expected. She lost her sister for days. You were ripped apart from your family, tortured for weeks and then abandoned by the authorities who should have protected your family. You shouldn't compare her and you, Jaune. The circumstances are very different."

"I won't say killing is right," he continued. "I know it's not when I do it. You know it yourself as well, or you wouldn't be feeling this way. I don't think it is pure evil, either."

"My father always said there's a line you should never cross…"

"Lines are just that, Jaune. Lines. You can walk over them and you can walk back. I kill now to try and bring some degree of freedom to the faunus. Once that is achieved, I will hang up my sword and retire. Or maybe I'll become a huntsman. Either way, I don't intent to keep killing. As long as you're doing it for a purpose you feel is good, you shouldn't let the weight crush you. Once you have your family safe in Menagerie, you're free to retire. Live with them. Find a girlfriend. Raise a family. Grow old and spend your life fishing if you wish." Adam smiled and reached over to slap a hand against his shoulder. "Don't let the now consume you. Think on the future instead. That'll keep you going."

On the future, huh? That sounded nice…

/-/

"It doesn't feel right for us to just up and leave…"

Qrow laughed. It wasn't the first time Ruby had said that, nor Yang or their two teammates. For all that the white-haired one was sister to the Ice Queen herself, she was fiery. His nieces had chosen a good team to get involved in. An exciting team with just as many issues and ridiculous escapades as his own.

"This isn't your battle, little rose. Nor is it yours, firecracker." He ruffled Ruby's hair and winked at Yang. "You guys are taking time off in Patch. Enjoy yourselves. Take some time off. Decide if you want to go to Shade. You know Tai and I will support you either way."

"What about Beacon?" Weiss asked. "If Jaune Arc is going to attack-"

"Leave that to us." Winter said, interrupting her sister before she could begin. "General Ironwood is here, as am I, and we know more of dealing with him than you do. As Qrow says, this isn't your fight."

"Then whose is it?" Yang asked.

"Ozpin's."

Yang looked around. "I don't see him here."

"The headmaster was busy and couldn't see you off-" Glynda tried.

"Save it, teach. We all know why he isn't here." Yang sighed and shook her head. As disappointed as she looked, Glynda looked far worse. "Maybe it's best this way. You weren't bad. You could have done to smile more-"

"Don't push it, Miss Xiao-Long."

"Hah. That's more like it."

Glynda Goodwitch sighed. "For all the lack of wit you inherited from your father, you were not a bad student. None of you were. Beacon is lessened with your absence," she told them. "And while Ozpin could not – chose not – to be here, I wish to express my heartfelt apologies for what you went through. And… And for how we failed you." The teacher bowed her head. "I am sorry."

"It's okay, Miss Goodwitch," Ruby said. "You couldn't have done anything."

"I could have. And I didn't. Qrow is right; don't worry about us. Knowing of the attack lets us prepare, and we won't be caught by surprise."

"If anything, your presence will only make it worse," Winter agreed. "Jaune Arc has reason to become… unpredictable if he sees you. Especially Belladonna. It's better for everyone you be out of the picture."

"Out, but not far away." Qrow said, pushing Ruby gently into the Bullhead. "You're only on Patch. I'll give you a call tonight once you've settled in, then pop down to spar with you all once this mess is dealt with. Make sure to go easy on your old man until then. He ain't getting any younger."

Ruby giggled. "Neither are you!"

"Brat!"

The team laughed and shared last farewells, for those that it would be a farewell to. Qrow imagined they'd already had the tough talks with their friends in Beacon, but it was a digital age and distance didn't have to mean end to friendship. He waved as the door closed and continued to do so as it took off, watching Ruby wave out the window with a sad expression on her face.

He knew she didn't want to leave, but it really was for the best. It just wasn't fair on any of them to have to stay after what happened. They'd realise that soon. It hurt to leave somewhere you called home, but just like him leaving the tribe and coming to Beacon, they'd make new friends, new memories and new reasons to fall in love with Shade Academy. Home was where the heart was, and at least their team was sticking together.

"It really is painful to see them go." Glynda said. "And so much more painful to have to do this alone. I can't believe Ozpin. I've never questioned his judgment as much as I do now."

"I have questions of my own," Winter said, "But they can wait. We have work to deal with."

"Yeah." Qrow turned away and stuck his hands in his pockets. "So, your boss found out anything about when we'll come under attack?"

"No information, but we can make assumptions. It will be soon. Time is not on their side when General Ironwood can continuously reinforce Beacon. If I were in their shoes, I would attack as soon as humanly possible. Today, tonight or even tomorrow."

That soon? Well, he couldn't fault Winter's logic on this one. The Arc kid had never been one for wasting time, either. _You'd weep at what your kid has become, Nicholas. Or maybe you'd blame yourself._ Fucking Atlas. They really screwed the sheep on this one.

A sudden attack on the school wasn't even as stupid as it sounded with his Semblance. Every student relied on aura and their Semblances to fight, with armour being so out of fashion most people wore it as a fashion accessory more than for protection. Armoured skirts, singular pauldrons and armguards – useless shit that only existed to make you stand out.

"Is Ozpin even bothering to plan for this?"

"I'm sure he is," Glynda said, "But his plans are more with regard to defending his latest… acquisition. I don't think he's wilfully throwing lives away, he just… isn't thinking straight. He's distracted and seems to think everyone will just look after themselves. I've warned Peter and Bart," she said. "We've devised evacuation plans that will see the students corralled to a safe zone outside the school building. We can better defend them there."

"You've informed General Ironwood of this plan of yours, I assume," Winter said.

"I have. James agreed it was for the best as his battleship can keep watch over that area, preventing the enemy from approaching."

Winter nodded and let the matter go. It sounded more like a fire drill to Qrow than anything, but then the kids would be so damn useless that this was the best they could do. "That leaves us to challenge him, doesn't it? We're not much better than targets for him."

Heavy footfalls thudded in the grass. "You will not be fighting him, Branwen."

General James Ironwood marched forward with a steely gaze, taking in Qrow, Winter and Glynda with slow and measured nods. He looked up toward the departing aircraft, his thoughts a mystery. Closing his eyes, he nodded once at it and then spoke again.

"Null's Semblance makes any huntsman intervention a doomed exercise. Though we have ranged options, our primary skills are in melee – right within his sphere of influence. From what I've seen, he's only gotten better and better at using it, switching it on and off in a fraction of a second."

"He nearly killed Raven," Qrow said. "Raven!"

"Precisely. He also had a chance to kill Winter as well, though he forfeited it to face me." Ironwood's face became hard as rock. "There's no point putting more of us against him. I will face him instead, along with my soldiers."

Qrow whistled. He was impressed – he'd admit. He wasn't a coward at any time, but Arc scared him. How couldn't he with a Semblance like that? For a huntsman like him, nothing was more terrifying than the idea of all his years of hard work and experience being ripped away from him. Ironwood looked like he didn't share that fear.

"Is that wise? I mean, what will soldiers do…?"

"They won't cross into melee for a start."

Qrow snorted. "Good point."

"Arc is a perfect counter to huntsmen, but he is vulnerable to well-trained and led soldiers, as shown by Chivalric's efforts to use them against him. Every time he has attacked an armed force, he has done it with allies. Huntsmen-level allies. Their job is to engage the soldiers so that he can approach safely."

"You're saying he's helpless against them?"

"I'm saying he is vulnerable. There is a difference. If soldiers flank him on every side and maintain distance, he won't ever have a chance to use his Semblance. At that point, he's just a young man with limited training. That is the perfect time for a single huntsman to engage him. One who does not rely so heavily on aura or Semblances."

Qrow caught the drift. "You?"

"My cybernetics run on dust, which he can't influence. They can withstand bullets and my Semblance is purely non-combat related."

"Sir, with all due respect, this is a reckless decision-"

"I will not be facing him alone, Winter. My `soldiers` in this little exercise will be the Ace-Ops."

"I see." The Ice Queen relaxed quickly, standing firm. "I retract my objection. What of myself, sir? Shall I be accompanying you?"

"No. I need someone to lead the defence against whatever allies he brings, likely White Fang, potentially more. You are the best I have to lead, and your presence will likely bait the White Fang into attack anyway."

Winter saluted. "Yes sir. I won't let you down."

"Thank you. Qrow. A word?"

Curious, Qrow nodded and followed the man away a small distance, just to some nearby trees, but enough that they could talk privately and without being overheard.

"Qrow," he began. "I need to know where your loyalty lays at this moment."

"My loyalty? With Beacon, obviously…"

"That is fine. But is it with Ozpin? Or the school and its inhabitants?"

Ah. Qrow winced, sucking in a sharp breath. Straight to the heavy questions. Ones he hadn't figured the answer out to himself. "Let's say I'm undecided. I've lost a lot of faith in the old man. Don't get me wrong, I get what he's doing. I understand it. If that girl can kill Salem, it makes sense he does this. But… he was willing to throw my niece's life away. I can't accept that. Talk, tinman. I won't rat you out."

General Ironwood considered him for a long moment before nodding. "Any battle between Arc and I is bound to be a dangerous one, to say nothing of the allies he brings. Defending the school is going to be difficult with so little information on what I'm to expect. I need to have some certainties, or I can't plan for it. So far, there is only one thing I know for sure. He will be going straight for his sister."

"You plan to use Ozpin as bait…"

"I plan to let him reach his sister," Ironwood admitted. "Because that vault far beneath the school is the safest place to face him. It runs the least risk of his Semblance affecting anyone else." That was true. Qrow nodded. "I don't specifically intend to use Ozpin as bait," Ironwood went on, "But I expect he will rush to defend his new _weapon_ once the attack begins."

So, he wasn't using Ozpin as bait but the sister, but they both knew Oz would be there – so it was the same thing in the end. Ironwood wanted to let Arc reach Ozpin. The better to know where he would be and to keep everyone else safe, he would throw Ozpin under the bus.

"He'll come back if he dies anyway," Qrow said, shrugging. "And that's assuming he can't kill Arc himself. Ozpin uses magic, doesn't he? He should be able to fight even if he's caught in Null."

"There is a chance Ozpin can defeat him, yes."

"Then what's the issue? Why act like I'd be against this?"

"It's not so much being for or against as it is me briefing you. I'm going to let Arc into the school. He's going to go unchallenged. I don't want you or anyone else panicking and rushing to intercept him."

Qrow made an understanding sound. "Right. Got you. And you can't have Oz finding out because he'll move Amber, and that'll send Arc into a freaking murder frenzy."

Ironwood inclined his head. "Precisely."

_Which means he'll get the drop on Oz._ Qrow ran a hand through his hair. Angry as he was – and he was livid – he still didn't want to let the old man die. _Then again, it's not death. He'll get a new body. And maybe Beacon could do with a new head, someone who isn't going to ignore the kids like Ozpin did. Glynda could fill that role easily._

It should have been horrific to plot the death of a friend, but it wasn't, probably because they both knew it would have happened eventually anyway. "Alright. I'll keep quiet and make sure everyone is out the way. Is that all you need me for?"

"Sadly, it's not. I doubt Jaune knows where he can find his sister. We don't need him rampaging through the school." Ironwood looked apologetic, and Qrow's stomach was already flip-flopping. "Someone is going to have to approach him on peaceful terms and guide him to her."

"Why do I have a feeling that someone isn't going to be you…?"

"I have to prepare the ambush."

"Of course you do. Fuck." Qrow reached for his hip flask and took a long, necessary drink. "And now I'm regretting not climbing on that Bullhead with the girls and flying back to Patch."

Ironwood chuckled. "You still can, bird. I can ask someone else to do it."

"Oh sod off." He finished his drink off and wiped his mouth clean. "I'll do it. But I tell you now, if I die a gruesome death, I am haunting the ever loving crap out of you."

"Duly noted. I think you'll find him more co-operative than you expect, however. I'm confident he will follow you."

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**Still having **_**some**_** site issues. Let's see if this fixes it.**

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**Next Chapter: 7****th**** December**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	42. Chapter 42

**Here we go**

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**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 42**

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General James Ironwood stood upon a balcony overlooking the training fields of Beacon and the Emerald Forest behind it. The air was still, the forest stiller, and a quiet and uneasy calm had come over the school. It was quiet. Unnaturally so given the excitement the Vytal Festival should have brought. The sun beat down on the school with the Vanguard moored a safe distance away. Both Chivalric and the Council had shown they could take over its weapon systems, and he wouldn't put it past the enemy to be capable as well. It would not be used in the defence of a school.

"It's been two days," Glynda said, walking up to stand beside him. "I don't know whether I want the calm to continue or for them to get it over with."

"I expect we'll have our answer soon. They've let us prepare defences."

"What does that mean? That they weren't quick enough to take advantage?"

"That they're confident they can break through them." James countered. "Always assume the worst. Then you can only be pleasantly surprised. You're not planning to evacuate the students?"

"On what basis? We can't close off the school because we think it _might_ come under attack. Ozpin would need to explain why it's being done, and that would mean revealing the truth about everything." Glynda hesitated. Once, she might have defended the headmaster's actions, but it spoke a lot of how the situation had changed that she didn't. "There's nothing I can do, James. I can only get them out of the way quickly if an attack happens."

"That will be enough."

The forests rustled and distant growls and roars sounded within. That itself wasn't unusual. The Emerald Forest was known as a training ground for Beacon that contained its fair share of Grimm. They were normally more docile, though. At least unless human prey was sighted.

"The Grimm are sounding."

"They've been unusually active of late," Glynda said. "Ozpin believes it to be the influx of new transfers and tourists. The population of the city has ballooned since the festival began. Where there are people-"

"There are Grimm," he finished. He leaned over the balcony, narrowing his eyes at the trees. As if summoned by the thought, a flock of birds took flight to the east of the school, pouring out the trees and flying deeper into the Emerald Forest, away from Beacon. James touched his collar and spoke. "Winter."

"_Yes General?"_

"Send a scout drone over the forest. Eastern edge."

"_Yes sir."_

Glynda waited with limited patience for him to finish. "Something wrong?"

"The birds have been spooked."

"As I said, the Grimm are active."

"Something the wildlife should be used to living in the Emerald Forest. It doesn't hurt to be cautious."

They watched together as a small black spec detached from the Vanguard and flew over. The battleship was moored over a nearby mountain range rather than the city. It still contained Chivalric Arms' automated units, and though Clover and Marrow had personally crippled each and every one, removing core components and CPU's, they weren't taking any chances.

The unmanned drone flew around the school and off toward the section of the forest he'd indicated. Ironwood pulled out his scroll, lowering it so that Glynda could see the feed along with him and Winter on the Vanguard. The little drone rotated over the treetops, moving left and right with tight, controlled bursts of propellant and several rotary blades keeping it in place. Its camera peered down into the forest, struggling to break the canopy. There was no movement below.

"Looks like it's a false alarm," Glynda said.

James hummed. "Move closer."

After a quick assent from Winter, the drone dipped down. It didn't have the agility to fly between the trees and branches, but it bobbed and moved around until it could find a break in the verdant canopy. It lowered down toward it.

"What's that?" Glynda asked. "There's something manmade there."

"_No movement or heat signatures, sir,"_ Winter reported.

"It's rectangular," James muttered. "Metallic. Some kind of container…?"

"Could it be one of the missing SDC containers stolen from the docks?" Glynda asked.

"It could be. Winter. Can you get the drone down there?"

In answer, the camera view began to dip as the drone slowly and carefully made its way down the small break. The screen ruffled over leaves and it was bounced to and fro, but through some clever movement and twisting, the drone was able to get down without damaging itself or becoming trapped.

Once it was beneath the main line of branches and boughs, it was a much easier task to skim down to ground level and inspect the shipping container. There, on the side, the SDC snowflake emblem stood out proudly. One set of its doors was wide open, and the thing had been seemingly abandoned. The drone floated around the front and there was no sign of dust or crates within.

"The White Fang must have smuggled the dust out through the forest," Glynda said. "The authorities can't afford to monitor land swarming with Grimm. To think that happened so close to the school."

"No." Ironwood's gut tightened. "It didn't."

Glynda rounded on him. "What?"

"The containers stolen from the docks were taken out to the ocean. Penny's final data banks confirmed that. They were almost certainly smuggled away by sea."

"But this _is_ one of the missing containers!"

"Yes. Which means it's come _back_. The White Fang collected it, removed the dust and have brought it back to just outside Beacon. The question is what they have repurposed an empty shipping container for."

"Storage? Arms and weapons?"

"Perhaps. And now it lays empty just outside Beacon at a time when we are expecting an attack." He knew she'd caught on by the sudden gasp and the way the blood drained from her face. James was already moving. "Winter, raise the alarm. All troops on standby. We are expecting-"

"_The drone just went down!"_

Ironwood swore. "Replay me the last thing it saw."

The visage on the scroll drew back, showing the drone floating around to the back end of the shipping container. Its lens took in the rivetted metal before a flash of light in the trees caught the operator's attention. The drone turned toward it, only to catch a muzzle flash. The screen became static.

"I'll draw out Jaune Arc and lure the White Fang in. Land your teams to pincer them once they're engaged."

"_Yes sir!"_

"Glynda-"

"I'll begin pulling the students out to the evacuation points." The blonde was already moving, and James nodded, impressed with the quick action. Not two minutes seconds later, the school's fire alarm began to ring. It looked like she was going to get everyone together on the excuse of a fire drill and then fill them in.

"Clover. We're a go. Where is Ozpin?"

"_He's already moving toward the express elevator. I have Harriet monitoring him. He's definitely not attending the fire drill."_

He knew, then. Ozpin was going to defend his most valuable asset. It rankled that such wasn't the students but there was little he could do about it now. Stepping away from the balcony, he moved through Beacon's halls, knowing the Ace-Ops would already be falling into position.

"_Sir!"_ Winter barked. _"Our Bullheads have been locked onto! We're having to bug out."_

"What?" Swearing, he hissed. "What is locking onto you?"

"_We don't have visual. The moment we started moving over Beacon's airspace, our systems detected an automated lock-on system. It has to be Atlas-tech for us to detect it so quickly. We can't approach without taking losses."_

The White Fang had some kind of AA emplacement nearby. It was aggravating they'd managed that without alerting anyone. They must have powered it down and made a conscious decision to not target the drone and other passenger aircraft that had been coming and going all day. Clever. How they'd gotten hold of such equipment was something to look into later. His gut instinct said it was another of Chivalric's fuck ups.

"Emergency land wherever you are and make the rest of the journey on foot. The Ace-Ops and I should be able to hold the line. We'll let the White Fang form a beachhead if they wish. Property damage can be repaired."

All through the forest, the sounds of Grimm grew in volume, and there was far more than should have been allowed for being so close to the school. Ironwood swore as dark shapes appeared perilously close to the training fields. He had a feeling he'd figured out what the White Fang were transporting in those containers.

/-/

Unleashing Grimm on a school felt disgustingly wrong even to him, but they _were_ huntsmen. They could deal with Grimm and could well pose a threat to him in enough numbers. Jaune watched through a pair of binoculars as the dark shapes formed their first wave, washing over the school and for the most part running around it to the back where gunfire could be heard in vast quantities.

"It looks like they've gathered most of the students behind the school," Adam said. "They're holding their ground there on the open terrain. It'll be suicide for my men to go anywhere near."

"Then don't," Cinder replied. "Our priority is the school building and what it contains. Jaune, are you ready?" The way she said it made it clear he better be. Lucky for them both that he was. Nodding, he moved out, flanking Cinder with Emerald trailing behind. "Once the fighting starts, we should keep a polite distance," she said. "I'm sure you can understand why."

"I won't catch you in my Semblance."

"Better safe than sorry."

Cinder had to moderate her pace to let him keep up. He could tell that annoyed her, but she knew the use he had far eclipsed any time wasted. By the time they reached the edge of the trees, the Grimm had moved on entirely. He wasn't sure how Cinder had managed to keep the Grimm coming back and attacking them, and he didn't really care to find out. Beacon rose up ahead, once a school he'd longed to attend, now a prison within which lay his final sister.

_I'm coming, Amber. I'll save you._

The three of them hurried down the main path, between two great archways that ran out like aqueducts. Huge pillars touched down to the ground as sweeping architecture led to the main academy building, its great spire rising in the centre to pierce the heavens. It was beautiful.

Nicholas had told them stories about his time in Beacon before he'd expressed his own desire to go and then the stories stopped forever. He'd always known that was his fault, and though his sisters never blamed him for it, he knew they missed the tales. Dad made the place seem larger than life, and in a way, it was. It must have looked mystical to those coming to live their lives there.

"They're letting us in the front door," Emerald said.

"No doubt expecting to spring a trap and catch us within," Cinder replied. "Hmph. A trap is only useful so long as it remains undetected."

"They might just want the students away from me." Jaune said.

"Perhaps. Let's proceed carefully."

Cinder led, her hands at her sides but empty. She'd given him some brief instructions about her Semblance, enough to make sure he didn't accidentally interfere with it. He knew that she wasn't as unarmed as she appeared. He also knew exactly what Emerald's Semblance did, which was why he kept his aura wrapped up tight and ready to burst through it. There was no obvious reason for them to betray him, but that didn't mean there wasn't something deeper.

Passing through the open doorway, they spread out, checking the corridors and finding the school practically abandoned. The White Fang had begun to come up behind, Adam shouting them into position, leaving half with their backs to the school to prepare an ambush for anyone looking to do the same to them.

This was all going too easily. Beacon were letting them in.

"Our information suggests they're being kept beneath the school."

"You sure are informed, lady."

Cinder flicked her hand to the side, creating a sabre from seemingly nothing. It pointed toward a shabby looking man Jaune remembered from Mistral. The huntsman who had confronted him in the bar. He couldn't remember the man's name, but his black-grey hair and stubbly face were familiar.

"Relax." He strolled slowly out into the middle of the corridor. "I'm here to talk to the kid. Not you."

"Null works with me, Qrow Branwen."

"My name proceeds me." He grinned roguishly. "And didn't I tell you to be careful about falling in with the wrong sort?"

Jaune pointed a gun at him. "That would be before huntsmen tried to murder me."

"And then you murdered them. Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Doing nothing would have led to my death. I still need to save my family from the one _you_ serve."

Qrow winced, his fingers touching a silver flask at his waist before he pulled them away. His weapon remained holstered, but the distance between would be enough for him to draw.

"Like I said, I'm here to talk to the kid. What you're looking for is up ahead. Elevator down. Ozpin is waiting. I'm not here to fight you, Jaune. All I ask is a moment of your time, then you can go follow your new girlfriend."

Cinder considered for a moment before dismissing her weapon. Slowly, she walked past Qrow, the huntsman moving aside to prevent any sneak attack. She didn't give him a choice to follow and Jaune scowled, fingering his weapon. Sadly, Qrow stepped back into his path, preventing him from following and freeing his sister. That was not a wise decision.

"Move aside, huntsman. I only want my sister."

"Wish I could give her to you, kiddo. Not fair what's happening to her."

Jaune's eyes hardened. "What _is_ happening to her?"

"She's safe for now. Alive. Ozpin… not all of us agree with what he's doing but her Semblance – it's stronger than yours. Much stronger."

Jaune's heart skipped a beat. His was bad enough. Atlas were willing to do anything to get hold of it. If Amber's was stronger and they already knew that, then would Menagerie really be safe for her? What lengths would they go to in order to capture her again? Damn it. No one deserved to have a Semblance on his level, least of all an innocent like Amber.

"No one will use my family while I'm around to protect them."

"Fuck." Qrow ducked his head and muttered something under his breath. "This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about." He looked up again. "You saved my niece's life. Ruby Rose. You're the reason she's back safe and sound."

He supposed he had, but he wouldn't take credit for it when all he'd wanted was to take Fields' life. "What of it?"

"I wanted to thank you for it. You might like to know she and her team quit Beacon. They couldn't stand to live in a place where the headmaster would abandon them like that. They also couldn't stand how the media turned on you. For what it's worth, they tried to get your story out. They tried to frame you as the good guy."

"Hah. I've been trying ever since Atlas. It won't happen."

"I'm sorry, kid. You don't deserve all this."

"I don't." Jaune agreed. "No one does. But since no one will stand up for us, I have to."

Qrow sighed. "Nicholas wouldn't have wanted you to become like this…"

"Dad wouldn't have wanted to die!" Jaune hissed. "He wouldn't have wanted us to be experimented on, tortured and used like lab rats!" He pointed Mors at the man's chest and his eyes flickered gold in warning. "Don't you dare tell me what he would and wouldn't have wanted me to do. I'm here for my sister. Get out my way or fight me but make the decision quick either way. I've somewhere to be."

"I tried to talk you down. I hope you remember that."

Snorting, Jaune moved past him. "It's too late for _talk_ to fix everything. Far too late. Your headmaster should have considered that before he joined Chivalric Arms."

"They never worked together."

"No. They became one and the same."

/-/

Cinder flipped back and summoned forth two arrows, nocking and loosing them directly at Ozpin. The headmaster stepped aside, dodging one and spryly knocking the second out of the air.

"Salem has chosen her latest minion well," he complimented. "But you're a little too young to have any hope of besting me." He set the cane down with a loud click, leaning on it. "It's not too late to reconsider your choices. Salem will not be around for much longer."

"She is immortal."

Ozpin's lips curled upward. "Not for much longer."

Cinder scowled and loosed another arrow, forcing the immortal to defend himself. She had seen with her own eyes the immortality of the one she served and been told of how Ozpin's own worked. They were not comparable. He was clearly bluffing.

Behind him, the two Ambers were secured – one lay locked in a tube, her dark skin suffused with greenish tint due to the liquid within. The second, Amber Arc, lay on a medical bed little different from any other, less than two metres away. Ozpin quickly moved between them, showing his intent to defend both.

"I bested your maiden. Her power is mine."

"That power was always mine," Ozpin replied. "You do not deserve it."

"And do you deserve the girl you've kidnapped? You made a powerful enemy there. I'd thank you for the ally you've all but forced upon me. He's proven quite useful."

Ozpin chuckled. "It was a sacrifice worth making. I've gained something far better than his Semblance."

What did that mean? Cinder's eyes narrowed. Once this was over, she could inform Salem and she would decide what to do. For now, the only thing that mattered was the Fall Maiden. Getting to her was going to prove difficult, however. While she was confident she could kill Ozpin _with_ that power, doing so without might not be possible alone. Emerald had been left above as well, necessary to divert Ozpin's reinforcements from arriving.

"Hesitating already?" Green light flickered around Ozpin's hands. "I thought you wanted my magic."

Cinder opened her mouth to answer but paused as a loud `ding` sounded far behind. The smallest of doubt disappeared as she saw Jaune Arc stride in, alone, angry and with his eyes glowing several colours at once. It didn't take him a second to notice his sister and the man keeping her away from him. His gun shot up, aimed directly at Ozpin's face.

"Nice of you to show up, Jaune. Did Branwen hold you back?"

"He wasted my time."

Ozpin's eyes sharpened. "What have you done with Qrow?"

"You shouldn't worry about him, old man. Worry about what I'm going to do to you if you don't give me my sister." Jaune didn't come to stand next to her. He kept a decent distance, allowing her Semblance to remain. "Release Amber to me."

The wizened old man sigh. "I cannot. Your sister has a great part to play in the world, Jaune Arc. Her name will go down in history as a great hero. Her destiny is to right a wrong that has plagued-" Ozpin twisted suddenly, moving his head out the way of a bullet.

Jaune's gun smoked. His teeth were gritted as he snarled, "Give. Her. Back!"

"I don't do this because I want to, child. I would like nothing more than to save her and you, to have saved your mother and father. Don't make the mistake of thinking I enjoy this." He brought his cane up. "It's for the good of Remnant. It is to protect millions of innocent people."

"Matthew Fields said much the same thing."

"I'm not some money and power hungry businessman."

"You could have fooled me!"

Jaune rushed in, closing the distance so he could bring his Semblance into effect. Any other opponent would have moved back, but Ozpin had to hold ground to defend his assets. Cinder smiled ferociously and shouted out, "Push him back! Once the maiden is dead, I'll have the power to kill him!"

Ozpin knew that as well. He leapt into Jaune's attack at the last second, striking the gun aside and letting the shot fire off into the dark. He twisted, hooked his cane over the firing arm and pulled back sharply. Bone would have snapped if Jaune's Semblance control wasn't there. He ended it just before the crack, flooding his arm with aura.

That meant Ozpin's came back, too. His cane lit up with green light as he stabbed out like a rapier, thrusting several times in quick succession. Jaune's aura flared and blistered as he skidded back.

Only for a moment. Snarling like a wild animal, he charged back in. Wild, angry swings forced Ozpin back. The fighting was too close for explosive rounds, but every hit Jaune struck ignored aura. Every counterattack Ozpin landed was blocked by it. Little by little, the far more experienced man was driven back. Not by skill, but by the inexorable reality of someone with aura fighting against someone without.

Cinder took her chance and skirted wide, drawing a new arrow and nocking it. The shot flew true, but Ozpin lurched into its path and caught it mid-flight. He navigated the melee with Jaune between them, forcing her to run further around for a clear angle on the tube and the maiden within. He couldn't keep it up forever. All she needed was one clean shot on a girl locked in a coma, then the power of the Fall Maiden would be hers.

Jaune tanked Ozpin's cane on his shoulder and gritted his teeth through the pain. He swung an arm over to hold it still, then pushed Mors at the man's face, activated his Semblance and pulled the trigger.

The bullet was stopped by a shimmering wall of green light appearing before the old man's palm.

"What-? But you shouldn't be able to-"

Ozpin released his cane and slammed a palm into Jaune's stomach. Again, and despite Null being active, a burst of green light erupted against his stomach, launching him back. He skidded along the floor, rolling onto all fours and releasing Null to let his aura flood back to the wounded area.

"H-How…?"

"There is more in this world than aura and Semblances, Mr Arc." Ozpin said as he walked slowly down the steps toward him. "There are things you cannot possibly understand. Your Semblance does not make you as powerful as you believe it does. Not against me."

That didn't make sense! He'd been less than a metre away, well within range of Null. His own aura had been down, which meant Ozpin's had to be as well, so how had he used his Semblance-? Snarling, Jaune rose and charged back in, slamming a foot down within range and activating his Semblance once more. Light of shimmering gold, purple, green and every other colour imaginable took hold in his eyes. Mors came up, barking four times as he shot at the unarmed and defenceless old man.

Yet again, the green light came and parried each, then he sent a twisting spear of it out that Jaune had to throw himself away from. It impacted the ground and exploded, crackling over the floor like lightning.

"I really wish it hadn't come to this," Ozpin said. "I'd love nothing more than to ask you to join me, explain things, make you see, but I don't think we will ever see eye to eye on what your sister must do."

"Amber isn't your toy!"

"No. She is so much more."

"Not on my watch!"

Moving in close, he snapped a fist out that Ozpin dodged, then tried to drive a knee into his stomach to no avail. Old as he looked, the man was a huntsman. An amateur like him could never match up. His next blow was deflected and then turned against him, Ozpin pushing him past and driving an elbow into his back. Stumbling, he swung back, only to have his wrist caught. Ozpin drove a fist into his stomach so hard Jaune spat blood. His aura crackled and nearly shattered from the force of it.

Wheezing, he clamped down tight on Ozpin's hand with both of his, then pushed forward with all his might, wrestling the man back. Rather than fall, Ozpin gave ground, moving away to steady himself.

"Cinder!" he yelled. "Now!"

The headmaster gasped and threw Jaune aside, rushing forward with arm outstretched. "No!"

Jaune heard the twang of the bowstring and the whistling arrow. Glass cracked as the black bolt slammed home, striking a perfect hole through the glass visor and impacting the older woman's chest. Amber, the older Amber, gasped and opened her eyes, then, without a word, slumped in the tube. Her forehead fell against the glass, blood running down her chest.

"Yes!" Cinder cried. "Yes! Finally! The power of the maiden is… is mine…?"

Her voice failed her on the last. Cinder stood with her bow discarded and her hands open before her. She looked down on them in confusion. Jaune pushed himself up from where Ozpin had thrown him, unsure what the issue was. The woman she wanted dead was dead. Wasn't this the part where Cinder was meant to be more powerful?

"What… I don't understand. Why am I not inheriting her power…?"

"Hahahaha." Ozpin laughed, holding a hand over his chest. "Ha ha ha." He shook his head, trailing off with a victorious smile. "Now, you see. The power of the Fall Maiden isn't yours. It isn't anyone's anymore. While your Semblance is powerful, Mr Arc, it pales in comparison to the power your sister's wields, even when she's unconscious." His hand rested on Amber's brow, brushing some blonde hair aside. "A power that does not take away aura and Semblance, but which takes away something far more dangerous. Something far more ancient."

Cinder gagged. "N-No. That can't be…"

"The power existed within poor Amber and would have passed on in her death. However, by preventing the magic taking hold, young Amber Arc here prevented it from being able to do so." Ozpin raised a hand, touching the air around him. "I wondered if it would come back to me, but it seems it has faded into nothingness instead. Perhaps that is better. I had the Relic of Choice moved back into its vault for just such an occasion. Do you know what that means, my dear?"

"You… You…"

"It means," he continued, smirking. "That the Relic of Choice is forever sealed away. As there is no Fall Maiden who can open its vault."

Jaune pushed himself up. Magic? Relics? Maidens? He spat blood, eyes focused on his sister. That was the only thing that mattered. If this… magic he spoke of was what he'd used to attack him while he was under Null's influence, then that meant he wouldn't have it if he was close to Amber. Ozpin was vulnerable.

Cinder trembled. "It's… gone…? That's not possible…"

"The maidens were created by me. They never were and were never intended to be eternal. With Amber's aid, I can erase the other three as well. Seal the Relics away, seek out your master and kill her once and for all."

The man stepped away from Amber, out of range of her Semblance, and emerald light crackled to life around his hands and fingers, burning down his cane until it spread out over the floor. Jaune stood his ground. Cinder staggered back, face pale and body shaking, lips moving rapidly as she mumbled and whispered to herself.

"But first," Ozpin said sadly. "I must dispose of you. When Amber awakes, I will tell her how you were betrayed, Mr Arc. I will tell her of how you were stabbed in the back by Salem's minion, and how you died in my arms despite my best efforts to save your life. If she is anything like you, her thirst for vengeance will ensure she stays focused."

The cane flew back to his hand and clacked down on the ground.

"But for that, you both must die."

* * *

**Ozpin. Ozpin. Ozpin. To be honest, I can't blame him in a way. It's evil but intended for good, and the ability to get rid of Salem once and for all is too big a thing to let morals get in the way of. In a way, he's already won by forever locking one of the Relics away. **

**The Brother Gods will never be summoned again.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 14****th**** December**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


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